#byler mini fic

[biigiiiii]

Picture this; Mike and Will are gonna kiss or confess or both and then one of them is gonna be in serious danger (probably Mike) and we don’t know the outcome of this for a while but when Mike is revealed to have survived will is gonna be running towards him and sobbing and just a general unintelligible mess and the classic “I thought I lost you” / “I never thought I’d see you again” lines as they grab and cling to each other like their lives depend on it.

[biigiiiii]

Mike : *contemplative nodding*

@parkitaco quote of the day

[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*

[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. 

[biigiiiii]

I just imagined a sort of reverse of the Elmike fight where Will says like “I appreciate how much you care” or something and Mike just under his breath goes “’care’”

[parkitaco]

"Mike," Holly huffs, standing over him with her arms crossed, "You're doing it bad."

Mike glances up from where he's sitting on the sidewalk in front of their house, covered in chalk and sweating. "Thanks," he says sarcastically, as Holly kicks her shoe at the drawing he's been half-heartedly creating on the ground. "You're the one who wanted to do this, remember?"

"You're hogging all the chalk," Holly whines, collapsing onto the ground and tossing an arm over her eyes in despair. Mike scowls; anyone who thinks he's dramatic has got him confused with the wrong Wheeler. "And you're not even doing it good."

Mike sighs, glancing down at his half-completed chalk drawing of a bunny, per Holly's request that there be more fun animals, Mike, it's too boring otherwise. She has a point - all his drawings have turned out sort of blob-shaped and ugly. "You do it, then," he says sourly, shoving the box of slightly broken chalk in her direction, and she grins all teeth at him.

Mike pulls his phone out of his pocket, grimacing when he sees the time. With Nancy off at college, he's been getting stuck on Holly-duty more and more often, and he's still got a solid three hours this morning before his mother gets home. Not that Holly's bad company, necessarily, though her incessant criticism certainly isn't helping her case. But it's summer, and Mike had had some vague plans of maybe going to the lake today, and hopefully dragging Will along with him. And besides, Holly's almost nine years old. She shouldn't need full-time looking after. Probably.

As if he's somehow read his mind from afar, Mike's phone buzzes with a text from Will:

hey :)

how's holly duty

Mike smiles, glancing up at his sister, who is currently scribbling out his misshapen rabbit drawing with a stick of red chalk, tongue poking out between her teeth as she concentrates on utterly destroying his attempt at art. It's hard to have authority over someone who knows you're a loser, he texts back, as Holly finishes scribbling out the bunny drawing and moves on to one of his earlier drawings.

don't call my boyfriend a loser :(, Will replies, and Mike's grin widens.

To be fair holly said it first, he types, and a piece of chalk hits him square on the forehead. He yelps and glances up from his phone, scowling at his sister. "Ow!"

"Stop texting Will," Holly says sourly, "and draw with me."

"Who says I'm texting Will?" Mike demands, snatching up the piece of chalk Holly had thrown at him. "And you said I was bad at drawing."

Holly stays silent, staring him down until he reluctantly leans over and starts drawing again. "I know you're texting Will because you have the dumb look on your face," she says, "And it's not fun if you're not drawing with me!"

"My face isn't dumb," Mike mumbles, but he goes back to drawing anyway. Maybe- fish are probably pretty easy to draw, right? He draws a circle with a triangle on the end that looks vaguely fish-like, and then sets about filing in multicolored scales.

Holly starts talking again, babbling on about whatever little world she's drawing at the other end of the pavement, and Mike nods along absently, doodling little circles around the slightly wonky-looking fish and praying that the sunscreen he'd hurriedly sprayed on before going outside is enough to protect his frighteningly pale skin from the blazing sun overhead. It's barely noon, but it's already getting hot, and the sidewalk is in direct sunlight with no trees around to shield him. Holly seems unbothered, though Mike can already see the bridge of her nose pinkening, and he'll undoubtedly get a lecture from his mother lately about taking proper care of his baby sister and whatnot. Even though Holly is literally not a baby, and Mike is pretty sure that when he was nine he was perfectly capable of putting on sunscreen.

It's a welcome relief, then, if a little surprising, when a shadow falls over him, and Mike jumps, dropping his chalk and raising a hand to shield his eyes as he glances up at the person standing over him. When he sees who it is, his entire body relaxes, a slow smile stretching across his face.

Will matches it, offering a little wave as he surveys the situation; Mike, covered in chalk and doodling multicolored circles all over the sidewalk, with his sister five feet away frantically scribbling out his earlier drawings. "Hi," Will says, amused, and Mike waves back, grinning a little sheepishly. "Are we having fun?"

"Hi, Will!" Holly chirps before Mike can answer, popping her head up and smiling brightly. "Mike is being a bummer," she informs him seriously, and Will laughs.

"Is that so," he replies, eyes flicking to Mike, and he nudges Mike's knee with the toe of his shoe.

"No," Mike replies sourly, giving Holly a scathing glare, "I'm being super nice, actually."

Holly is unperturbed, sticking her tongue out at him and going back to drawing, and Will laughs again as he sinks to the ground in front of Mike, crossing his legs beneath him and leaning back on his palms. He looks good like this, warm and tan in the summer sun with a teasing twinkle in his eye and his white t-shirt tucked neatly into his jeans.

"Hi," Will says again, low and soft, reaching forward and tugging at the collar of Mike's t-shirt until he leans forward for a quick kiss. In his peripheral, Mike watches Holly pull a face of disgust, and actively decides to pretend he doesn't notice. "I like your drawing," Will says, glancing down at the fish Mike has been slaving away at, and Mike flushes, whining in embarrassment and scooting away.

"Shut up," he grumbles, reaching for a fresh piece of chalk and halfheartedly filling in one of his circles with purple. "You're the artist, not me."

"Hey, I was being serious!" Will says, laughing lightly, "It's cute."

Mike presses his lips together, giving Will a scrutinizing look. "You're cute," he mumbles, which isn't quite the comeback he'd been looking for but is still, unfortunately, very true, and Will brightens, shooting him a brilliant smile.

"Hey, thanks," he replies, and leans over to steal the chalk out of his hand. "Can I draw too?" he asks Holly, who glances up from where she's drawing a mustache and goatee onto Mike's poor attempt at drawing a cat.

She looks Will up and down, weighing her options, and then nods once, shoving the box of chalk in his direction. "Don't break any," she chides.

"I won't," Will says seriously, placing a hand over his heart like he's swearing it.

Mike rolls his eyes. "You've already broken like half of it, Holly," he says, reaching for a blue piece and doodling another circle near his fish.

"That's why we can't break any more!" she says shrilly, which is a fair enough point. Mike lets it go.

Will smirks, leaning over and sketching out a few gentle lines on a blank stretch of sidewalk. "When does your mom get back?" he asks, as the lines he's sketching gradually take the shape of a much more realistic-looking fish than the one Mike had drawn.

"Like, three maybe?" Mike says with a grimace, pulling out his phone to check the time again. Tragically, it has been less than fifteen minutes since the last time he checked. "She has to do grocery shopping and then yoga, I think. I don't know, I wasn't totally listening."

Will snorts, picking up a piece of blue chalk and drawing gentle, wave-like lines around the two fishes they've drawn. "Okay," he says, chalk-dusted fingers brushing over the back of Mike's hand gently, "But you're free tonight, yeah?"

"Yeah," Mike confirms, "Why, did you want to do something?"

Will nods, filling in little white crests on each of the waves he's drawn. "Yeah. The lake, maybe? I don't know, I just want to hang out with you."

It's impressive, how easily Will is able to make Mike's entire chest fill with butterflies with a single phrase, especially such a mundane one considering how long they've been dating. He bites down a shy smile and nods as normally as he can manage, though he's pretty sure Will can sense the giddiness radiating from him anyway. "That sounds nice," he says, and then, because he can't help himself, "We are hanging out right now, though. In case you hadn't noticed."

Will rolls his eyes, lifting a chalk-covered finger and booping Mike's nose lightly, undoubtedly covering his face in green chalk dust. "I did notice," he says, jabbing his finger at him again, "But- alone, I meant. Sorry, Holly," he adds, glancing over at her apologetically, and she sticks her tongue out at him.

"Mean," she whines, and Mike rolls his eyes.

"Don't dish it out if you can't take it," he tells her, and she scowls, maintaining eye contact with him while she draws a giant red X directly over one of his earlier drawings.

Will's eyes widen. "Cold," he mutters, and holds his fist out. Holly bumps it dutifully and goes back to drawing.

His eyes flick back to Mike, and the corner of his mouth ticks up as his gaze darts over Mike's face. "You have chalk on your face," he informs him, looking like he's trying very hard not to laugh, and Mike scowls, lifting a hand and scrubbing at his face with the back of it.

"That's your fault," he grumbles, and Will makes a fake-sympathetic face as he scoots closer and bats Mike's hand away, raising a still green-tinged hand to wipe at his face. Mike lets him, leaning into his warmth, even as he says, nose wrinkled, "Listen, I can't see my face right now, but I feel like you're making it worse."

Will grimaces, and his hands tragically pull away from Mike's face as he surveys his work. "A bit, yeah," he acknowledges. "I kinda just spread it around."

"Idiot," Mike accuses, and Will grins all teeth, tilting forward slowly like he's falling into Mike's gravity before closing the rest of the distance in one swift motion and stealing another quick kiss. "Idiot," Mike says again, and leans in for another.

"Love you too," Will replies cheerily when they part again, and Mike shoots him the finger before remembering that there's a child present and quickly hiding it behind his back.

"I saw that," Holly says anyway, as she finishes whatever she's drawing and glances up at him.

"No you didn't," Mike says matter-of-factly, and Will elbows him.

"Don't gaslight her," he reprimands, and Holly points at him and nods.

"Come here," she demands, despite the fact that Mike and Will are sitting less than ten feet away from here. "I wanna show you what I made."

Mike wants to tell her to say please, or something, or at least take a slightly less bossy tone with the person who is literally in charge of her for the day, but Will is already scooting over to her, peering down at her drawing with genuine curiosity, and Mike has no choice but to follow. It's a little infuriating and all too endearing, how nice Will is to Holly, and most people in general. He makes people feel important. Mike in particular.

Holly's drawn a rainbow, Mike sees as he clambers over to sit beside Will, hooking an arm around his waist and resting his chin on his shoulder. There are little multicolored hearts all around it, complete with white clouds at either end, and Holly looks way too pleased with herself for someone who's basically just drawn a bunch of lines, but whatever. It's probably better than Mike could do.

"It's for you!" she chirps, grinning wide, and Will huffs a surprised laugh, hand absently coming to rest on Mike's knee. "Because rainbows."

"Aw, Mike," Will laughs, tilting his head back to look Mike in the eye, "Did you teach her that?"

"No," Mike says, squirming closer to him and grinning, "Nancy, probably. She keeps sending me all these lists of queer resources and shit."

Will hums a laugh, thumb tracing gentle circles into Mike's knee as he reaches for his phone. "This is very sweet, Holly," he says sincerely, and she blushes as he snaps a picture. "Thank you."

"You should take a picture of Mike's fish, too," she says seriously.

Mike frowns. "I thought you hated my drawings."

"Not the fish!" she says, and does not elaborate, which- yeah, sure. Mike will take what he can get.

"Here, you take it," Will says, passing Holly his phone, and she hops excitedly to her feet and shuffles over to the other end of the sidewalk to snap the photo.

Mike settles more comfortably onto Will's shoulder, enjoying the solid warmth of him even under the burning summer sun. "You know there's a twenty percent chance she's going to break your phone," he murmurs into Will's ear, still half-hugging him from behind, and Will lifts a hand to rest over Mike's where it's pressed against his side, threading their fingers together.

"She's like four feet tall," Will points out, "she can't break it any worse than I already have."

"You'd be surprised," Mike mutters darkly, and Will laughs, tilting his head to the side and pressing a soft kiss to the side of Mike's face. Mike leans into it, a smile creeping onto his face despite himself.

Holly flounces back over, dropping Will's phone unceremoniously into his lap and resuming her previous position amidst the chalk drawings. "You guys are gross," she announces, as Will presses another kiss to Mike's temple.

"You made a drawing for us, though," Mike points out.

"Doesn't mean you aren't gross," she says matter-of-factly, and Mike supposes it's kind of hard to argue with that. "You have chalk on your face, by the way."

Mike splutters something incomprehensible, and Will laughs quietly, slinging an arm around his shoulders and grinning up at him. "It's okay," he says seriously, "I like your face."

"I like your face too," Mike replies teasingly, leaning in to rest his forehead against Will's.

"Gross," Holly says again, and the sun keeps shining.

[will80sbyers]

«Mike... » his voice was almost a whisper. He had thought about that conversation for months, imagining all the different possibilities in his mind and now it was the only time they could actually talk about it face to face before he left Hawkins again. Mike stopped and turned, giving him a warm smile. «Yeah?»

The casualness of his tone made Will consider the idea of just saying something about d&d, keep the situation as it was and let go of what he wanted to say. Maybe it was best to just forget everything that happened and move on, maybe Mike didn't think it was anything important and he just did it because he pitied him for being as he was. Maybe Mike was just being a good friend, in a way, and Will wanted to keep being best friends no matter what happened. The problem was that as Will watched the boy near him, he was pretty sure he would always feel like this for Mike... and after what Mike did the day before they left with Owens to keep El safe from the government, he at least deserved an explanation so that he could stop going crazy by thinking about it.

«Can we... can we talk? Alone.»

Will watched Mike realize the implications of his words and let go of a breath, like he was expecting this conversation to happen and dreading this.

He started stuttering a little.

« Uh... Y-Yeah... I guess, yeah. Let's go... in your room?»

Mike looked around nervously, the others were having various conversations while helping pack in the living room. Will was glad that no one was paying attention to them in that moment. They walked in silence to his room and he closed the door behind him. They still had a lot to pack, his closet was empty and the walls were now bare, but the bed was still as he had left it the day they left home. Mike sat on it and began fidgeting with his hands, clearly uncomfortable. Will's heart was beating so fast that he didn't know where he found the strenght to pull through and start talking.

« So, do you remember right before we left... at Castle Byers. I mean, we... you... I'm just, I've been kind of confused, I don't know...» he took another deep breath «I just want to know why. »

«Why?»

«Why... why did you... kiss me? » His face started burning up from the embarrassment, he had replayed that moment on loop so many times in his head but it always made him feel dizzy.

« I shouldn't have done that. » Mike let go this in a whisper and Will's heart sunk. He tried to stay calm as much as he could. The room felt suddenly really cold and alien to him.

« Okay. Why did you?» Ice was spreading in his lungs. « Was that... were you messing with me? I really don't know what to think, Mike, I've been thinking about it every day and I just, I don't understand why you would do something like that to me, it's not my fault that— it wasn't nice. »

« I'm sorry.»

The rage that was building inside him dismantled, replaced by confusion as he realized Mike's eyes were filling up with tears.

« I just... why? » He pleaded.

« Hey? Can you look at me? I thought we were best friends, I don't understand, you wouldn't... you wouldn't play with me like this, right? I mean, this... us... this is not a joke to me. It's not funny. »

« Us? What do you mean? »

« Ye-yeah... I mean, not that you... but I— you've never done anything like this and I don't, you're not cruel and maybe it wasn't important to you, it was just a joke or.. or I don't know.. but to me.. that, I have thought about that for a year and you just kissed me and left me there right after and then Owens comes and takes us away and when I can finally call you again you're pretending like nothing happened and... and I've been losing my mind, Mike! »

« Not important? Will what... I kissed you. I was not... it wasn't a joke. I wanted to. I wanted to... kiss you. »

« You wanted to?»

Mike got up and started pacing a little, Will noticed he was avoiding looking at him directly but was still stunned by what his best friend had just admitted to him.

« Look, I'm sorry. I don't know why I did it like that and why I ran away, I was... scared, and embarrassed. I thought I had ruined everything between us because I mean, you didn't react at all and, like, I get it. You don't... it's okay. I'm sorry that I interpreted things wrong and I just wanted to go back to being us, being normal and just... just forget about it, okay? I just, I don't want to lose you as a best friend. Can we... pretend it just didn't happen and still be friends?»

« No!» Will almost screamed this, jumping up from the bed. Mike stopped, stunned.

« No?»

« No, we can't go back to being friends!»

« Will... what? Really!?» Mike's face contracted in that adorable half confused-half annoyed expression he made when he just was not understanding what was happening. Will's chest felt so warm from happiness and he just wanted to start laughing at how ridiculous this whole situation was.

« Did you want to kiss me?» He asked, instead, and took a step towards him.

They were almost face to face now and Will was smiling so much, he felt the need to reach for Mike's hand and the other boy let him took it and looked at their intertwined hands first, his cheeks turning scarlet and then his gaze went back to look into Will's eyes.

« What are you—»

« Mike. It's a simple question, did you want to kiss me?»

Mike's cheeks were so red now but honestly, Will was focused only on his lips, just waiting for his answer.

« I told you... yes I-»

Will took that final step. He couldn't contain his euphoria anymore. He took Mike's face with his hands and kissed him, shutting him up completely. Mike froze for one second before relaxing and kissing him back intensely. Mike had now brought his hands around his waist and was being delicate but firm at the same time. Will was just asking himself why they didn't do this before, this was what was always meant to be. They fit together like every stroke of paint in what must have been the most beautiful painting ever made. He knew art when he saw it and he was experiencing it right now with every kiss and every smile between them. They separated at one point and looked at each other for one second before falling into a tight hug that said every word they had not had the courage to say before. Will felt at peace in Mike's arms and he didn't want to let go but someone knocked at his door and they instinctively separated like they were caught doing something they shouldn't have done.

« Will! Mom said to let you know we have to go in one hour! » Jonathan's voice came through the door, Will was really glad his brother had decided to not barge in without warning like he usually did.

He sighed and screamed back.

« We're almost done! »

Mike smiled and proceeded to take Will in his arms again. He melted against the other boy. He wanted to enjoy this moment as much as possible.

They would think about the future another time.

[season-of-the-squirrels]

looking for steddie fics with

platonic stobin where steve and robin are deeply codependent and love each other just as much as (if not more than) steve and eddie (and is actually important to the story and not just a throwaway)

eddie and robin friendship that exists outside of steve

steve being so sleepy. look at that man he is the sleebiest boy alive he just wants to go snork mimimi

zero emotional intelligence from anyone involved

will byers!!! will motherfucking byers!! who is literally the best character in the whole show and also has the BIGGEST best-friends-sisters-boyfriend crush on steve harrington

steve and max sibling arc. they are literally brother and sister i dont make the rules. eddie and max too but eddies more of a fun uncle and steve has to stop him from letting the kids drink beer

[purpleshadow-star]

"We don't have time for this! We need to go save Max!"

"Lucas." Mike says, hands out placatingly. "We need a better plan. We're no use to Max if we get killed before we ever find her."

"If we keep stalling, she'll end up getting killed before we find her!" Lucas shouts, throwing his hands into the air.

Mike clenches his fists and grits his teeth. He's losing his patience. They've been going back and forth for almost five minutes now. The rest of the party is watching them wearily, for once not trying to get involved, at Mike's request.

"Listen," Mike says, teeth still grit, "I understand your impatience-"

"No." Lucas cuts him off, "you don't understand. None of you know what it's like-"

Mike snaps.

"Of course I do!" He shouts. "You think I don't know what it's like? The agony of not knowing? Having to think about them, powerless and alone? The stress of thinking every second will be a second too late? At least you know she's alive!"

Lucas sputters for a second before arguing.

"That's not the same, and you know it. To me, Max is... I lo-"

Without thinking, Mike cuts him off, shouting, "It's exactly the same, Lucas!"

Silence. Mike pants from the exertion of his outburst. Lucas is staring at him, eyes wide with realization. His eyes flicker behind Mike, then back to his face.

Mike closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He hadn't meant to reveal that little piece of information, but he might as well lay out all his cards now.

He opens his eyes.

"I-" Mike starts, quieter now, "You know that I know what it's like, Lucas. And I'm telling you, it's the same for me. So listen to me when I tell you that you need to calm down and think rationally. You and I both know we're no use to Max dead. We need to come up with a good plan, fast, so we can save her. We're getting nowhere by arguing. We're just wasting time."

Lucas is quiet for a second before nodding.

"You're right." He agrees. "I'm just- it's maddening to not know what's happening to her, but I guess you already know that." Lucas glances behind him again. When he looks back at Mike, he offers him a small smile. "I guess it's been so long that I almost forgot how you were back then, when all of this started. Sorry. I shouldn't have said what I said."

Lucas holds a hand out. Mike takes it.

"I'm sorry too." Mike apologizes as they shake hands. "For yelling at you. Since I know how you feel, I should've been more..." Mike unconsciously twists his face in discomfort, "understanding, I guess."

They release hands, and Lucas pats Mike on the shoulder.

"Don't worry about it." He says before leaning in closer to whisper in his ear. "You can leave the soft, mushy stuff for Will, huh?"

Lucas leans back with a loud laugh as Mike goes red.

"Mike?" Will asks. His voice comes from behind Mike. Oh, that's who Lucas kept looking at. Will walks around Mike into his line of vision. "Are you okay?"

Mike looks at Will, safe and sound in front of him. Well, more or less, considering his connection to One. But he's here, present and solid and whole and alive.

Mike looks at Will and thinks back to November of 1983. He thinks about the panic and desperation and the agony of not knowing where Will was. If he was alive. How long he would stay that way.

He thinks about Lucas’s argument. "To me, Max is... I lo-"

He's positive Lucas was going to say that he loves Max.

Mike didn't lie when he said it was exactly the same, even if he didn't know it back then.

Mike looks at Will, who is looking at him with concern.

Mike gives Will a smile.

"Never better."

[braingobrrr]

main reason why i need to get this fic published asap is that i am dying to watch episode three of pjo. oh and also bc writing fics is fun etcetera etcetera. but mostly because of pjo

[biigiiiii]

My regular/top tags list;

🔵 #autistic Mike wheeler - self explanatory

🟡 #mike wheelah - silly goofy Mike time

🔵 #mike wheeler defense squad - any posts or content that supports or defends Mike

🟡 #byler art - also self explanatory

🔵 #byler mini fic - ^

🟡 #byler fanfic - ^

🔵 #queen bylers - anything byler and queen related. Not much there really except my own byler fic based on queens discography pre 1986

🟡 #st text posts - the best memes for my byler queens

🔵 #save - cool byler analysis and general theories. This is used a lot though and originally set up as something to show my friends why byler canon ahaha

🟡 #titanic bylers - keep up with my titanic AU fic

Bonus - #mike wheeler core

[loverslakes]

chapter 4 of honey, i’m still free is here!

[byler-prompts]

Outside, there is a storm calling his name. He knows it, but also doesn’t know why. In the mist of the black fog, entering his very being, Will finds himself to awake in a sudden cold. It wasn’t his first time either, but what is a first is that his memories stay there, persistent. Instead of forgetting, he is remembering. Remembering a past that he never thought was, remembering himself as the designer of the upside - remembering himself as 012.

Will Byers finds he is the designer of the Upside Down through a monster he used to fear. The Mind Flayer, instead taking his memories, is returning them. But why? After finding more and more about his past, he tries to go to the Upside Down in order test his new found - remembered? - abilities. The only problem? The Party is suspicious of his dtrange behaviour around them, and won’t let him out of his sight, especially Mike.

—

Basically twelvegate and Will being a God of the Upside Down. I don’t believe for one second that Vecna created the replica of Hawkins or the Demogorgons/Demo-dogs. Vecna may have created Mind Flayer, but that was only due to his interest with spiders, he has no creativity besides that, or the imagination Will does.

It’s also a theory of mine that Will is the main designer the Upside Down and can control the things he creates. Why else would Henry’s Mind Flayer creation go after Will otherwise? It’s not like he couldn’t use the Mind Flayer to control the demogorons/demodogs before, unless he couldn’t. Again, mini theory, with not much evidence, so I wouldn’t bet on it, but it is an interesting idea.

The Mind Flayer in this story, I would believe to be Will’s creation instead, since Henry’s is still probably in Russia, and Will has drawn it as well. It’s purpose is also to help Will remember, not forget.

Anyways, do have fun with this prompt. I’ll be stalking AO3 for it, though I only read Byler. QwQ

What can I say? I have an obsession.

[I told you to stay tuned! More coming soon.]

[hoteadepresso]

okay so we know Noah said that “Wills story ends beautifully”, so we can be pretty certain that Will isn’t dying, and neither is Mike

but indulge my angst loving ass and picture me this

they all get ready for the final showdown, months of training and anxiety finally coming down to this. will has trained with el and was able to begin controlling his powers. he’s not exactly fully confident and skilled, but it’s enough to give everyone hope. their time has run out, its time to be ready.

so the night before its time to venture into the upside down and finish it once and for all, they make a bonfire by the cabin, one last night all together before it’s time to risk everything and fight for everything and everyone they love. they all huddle in groups and pairs, talking quietly, laughing and enjoying themselves despite the grim reality they need to face soon. jonathan is playing music on his radio he dragged out into the woods, thankfully there’s still electricity in the cabin.

mike and will exchange soft glances and slight, “accidental” hand brushes as they listen to dustin ramble. they have been constantly tiptoeing around each other throughout past few months, sharing emotionally loaded moments and slowly becoming as joined at the hip as they used to be when they were kids. mike has been there to soothe will through his nightmares, which got more awful the more vecna regained his strength, and will has been there to ground mike whenever his anxiety and overthinking got the best of him.

so they shift a bit closer, their arms brushing together, and Will slowly lets his head fall on mike’s arm, his eyes closing. mike’s heart is about to burst in his chest as he allows himself to turn his own head slightly, his nose almost brushing wills hair.

and then heroes by david bowie begin playing in the background, and mike finally manages to get it together, and he stands up and pulls will by the hand into the cabin. will follows him without any objections, even though he’s surprised, and when mike closes the door behind them there’s only a soft glow of the bonfire illuminating the cabin, enough for them to see each other’s faces clearly, but not enough to break the intimacy of the moment.

‘dance with me?’ mike asks, his heart in his throat, throwing the caution out the window because they might not live to see another night like this, and grabs wills hands gently when the other boy nods silently, surprise clear in his bright green eyes, cheeks flushed.

and they sway awkwardly, because none of them is much of a dancer, but when mike twirls him twice with a silly focused expression on his face and will laughs, whole face lighting up, mike cant help but stare at him, tender, longing smile on his face, eyebrows scrunching slightly, and he moves closer, his hands finding wills face, fingers sliding into his hair gently, and he roams wills face with a searching look

will blinks up at him slowly, his lips parting slightly and he grabs the collar of mikes jacket, standing on his tiptoes to press his lips against mike’s, who instantly brings one arm around wills waist to pull him closer.

the kiss is gentle, but there’s a sense of desperation, they both want to imprint it in their brains, to stay there and never stop kissing, as if it could make the looming doom disappear

they pull away after some time, and mike lets out a long, shaky sigh

‘will I-‘

‘no.’ will interrupts, his eyes misted over with tears, as he presses their foreheads together ‘you can tell me when it’s all over’

mike nods slowly, his eyes never leaving wills. they remain glued to each other for the rest of the night, hands clasped together between each other in the soft glow of the fire, not exactly caring that much if their friends, their family notice

and when the day comes, they both push on with a newfound strength, something to fight for even more ferociously than before.

will and el join their forces and after a long, exhausting battle they manage to end vecna once and for all, protecting their loved ones.

and when will turns with s bright smile to look into mike’s eyes, ready to run into his arms, to scream that they won together, his body goes cold when he sees a long, sharp tendril piercing through mikes back right through his chest. one, final evil act of the dying monster.

mike’s face is still lit up in relief, as if he didn’t yet realise his chest was rapidly oozing blood, a soft smile on his lips as he looks at will, before dropping as he starts coughing up blood, the lips that made wills dreams come true last night now stained crimson.

the tendril rips out of the boys chest and he falls to his knees, as everyone snaps out of their shock and screams echo in the wasteland they’re in.

will is by mikes side in seconds, grabbing at him helplessly as his best friend, the boy he loves, falls into his lap, violent, bloody coughs shaking his body as he stared desperately in wills eyes. the deep, dark eyes he loved so much were filled with fear, tears glazing them over, as mike grabbed wills arm tightly.

‘w-will…’

will tries to silence him, nonsense reassurances spilling from his mouth as he sobbed, vaguely aware of nancy pressing her shaking hands against the gaping wound in mikes chest, desperately trying to stop the bleeding as sobs wracked her body.

‘I…’ more blood spilling from his mouth ‘lo—‘

he coughs again, gruesome gurgling sound erupting from his throat as he stilled slowly, his hand dropping from wills arm. his eyes remained aware for a few more seconds, staring desperately at will, before the light behind them went out.

everything is drowned out by wills screams, as he desperately tries to push his head against mike’s heart, as if he could will it to beat again.

his heart.

[wiseatom]

perhaps Mike has a migraine and Will is comforting him? (I have a migraine today🥲 and I would like to be vicariously comforted through characters dhejdjedi). Thank you!!💕

hi anon!!! thank you for the prompt <3 sorry that this is late, but i hope you are feeling better!!

The apartment is dark when Will gets home. 

He frowns as he steps inside; Mike should definitely be home by now. Will usually stays late at the studio on Fridays, trying to create as little work as possible for himself on Saturday so that he can actually have a weekend the next two days, but Mike is usually off early on Friday. He should be here.

He flips the entryway light on and lets his messenger bag fall from his shoulder to one of the dining room chairs as he passes by, peeking his head around the wall that blocks his view into the kitchen. The window above the sink lets in the last of the evening light, illuminating the room in a blueish glow, but there's no Mike in sight.

“Mike?” he calls out, stepping further into the apartment and flipping switches as he goes. Dining room, living room, hallway – but by the time he reaches their bedroom door, he’s pretty sure he’s figured out what’s going on. He cracks open the door to their bedroom as quietly as possible, letting in only enough light to confirm that, yes, the lump under the covers is distinctly boyfriend-shaped. 

“Hey,” he says softly, his voice nearly a whisper as he slips inside the room. He’s careful with shutting the door behind him, holding onto the knob so that the latch doesn’t click, and then rounds the bed. He approaches the blanket lump and sits gingerly right by where he guesses Mike’s head is, if the tuft of hair poking out from the covers is anything to go by. “Migraine?”

(They’re less common than they used to be, Mike’s migraines, but Will’s been around for nearly all of them. He never used to get them, but that was before the nasty blow to the head that happened sometime during the interdimensional fight for their lives at just sixteen years old. All throughout the rest of high school and most of college, the resulting migraines became a frequent visitor, their visits frequently bad, and Will frequently powerless to do anything but sit by and watch Mike suffer. 

It’s been years, but Will doesn’t think he’ll ever be used to it.)

At the question, Mike makes a muffled noise of assent, then pulls the covers back far enough to squint up at Will in the lowlight of the room. Will frowns again, letting out a sympathetic little hum, and threads his fingers into Mike’s hair, nails scratching at his scalp along the way. Mike closes his eyes, clearly pleased, and presses his head into Will’s thigh. 

“Did you take anything?” Will asks quietly.

“At school,” Mike answers. His voice is hoarse, tired, and Will’s heart clenches in his chest. “It hit second period, so I popped three ibuprofen and found a sub by fourth. Drive home was brutal.”

Will grimaces, hoping traffic wasn’t as brutal as the afternoon sun. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles, running his fingers through Mike’s hair again. “Anything I can do?”

Mike hums. “That,” he says, letting out a content sigh. “‘S almost gone, anyway. Just need more sleep.” 

“I’ll stay until you fall back asleep, then,” Will promises. He leans back to check the glow of numbers from the alarm clock on his side of the bed. “If you’re up before eight, I’ll make you dinner.” 

The corner of Mike’s mouth twitches, as much of a smile as he can manage. “What time is it now?” he asks. 

“Quarter past six,” Will answers, eyes flicking to the numbers again. 

“Should be gone by then,” Mike mumbles. “I accept your bargain, Byers.” 

Will lets out a little laugh, making sure to keep it quiet. “Sleep,” he commands gently, and it’s a testament to how truly tired Mike is that he doesn’t even attempt to argue it. Instead, he just pulls the blanket back up over his eyes and shifts so that his head is pressing more insistently into Will’s thigh, like the external pressure is helping banish the one happening internally. 

“Thank you,” Mike says quietly, voice muffled from under the covers again. “Love you.”

“Always,” Will replies easily. “Love you, too.” 

Mike lets out another happy sigh, and Will sits there in the dark with him for another ten minutes, absentmindedly carding his fingers through his hair and waiting for his breaths to even out with sleep. When they finally do, Will carefully extracts himself from his sleeping boyfriend, stilling and wincing at the creak of the mattress, and then letting out a sigh of relief when there’s no movement from Mike afterwards. He makes quick work of stumbling through the dark to find a change of clothes, opening and closing drawers as silently as possible, and once he’s in a pair of sweats and a crewneck he’s pretty sure don’t belong to him, he quietly exits the room into the hallway. 

With Mike out of commission for the next two some-odd hours, it’s probably the perfect time to dig back into his messenger bag and look over those character concept design sheets that are due tomorrow, but his eyes already hurt at the thought of even spending a single minute looking at the same stupid drawings again. If he’s going to give himself eyestrain, it’s going to be with the Nintendo. 

Eyestrain is exactly where he’s approaching an hour and a half later, when Mike emerges from the bedroom looking sleep-rumpled and soft, one leg of his sweatpants higher than the other. Will immediately pauses his game and lifts one arm up, and Mike doesn’t need a verbal cue to crawl right up into the space Will has made for him. He settles against Will’s side easily, resting his head on Will’s shoulder. The light from the screen instantly creates a glare off his glasses, but he doesn’t seem to mind. “Ocarina?” he asks. 

“Mhmm,” Will replies. He runs his fingernails along the point of Mike’s shoulder. Mike preens at the touch. “Trying to get through the stupid Water Temple, still.” 

Mike barks out a quiet laugh. “Good luck,” he says, “my kids have been going on about that for months. I have absolutely zero tips for you.” 

“What good are you to me if you can’t even get me gaming tips from resident high schoolers?” Will scoffs, which earns another quiet laugh from Mike. Will smiles, pleased, and turns his head, kissing Mike’s temple. “How’s that big brain of yours doing?” 

“Not completely gone, but manageable now, at least,” Mike answers. 

Will hums. “Think you can manage some soup?” 

Mike pulls back to give him a look. “Do you think you can manage some soup?” 

“That was one time,” Will hisses, after letting out the quietest indignant squawk a person has ever indignantly squawked. Mike is lucky that Will is such a considerate boyfriend -- Will wishes he could say the same. 

“Just because we painted over the scorch marks doesn’t mean they’re not still there,” Mike points out. Before Will can protest further, Mike is pushing himself up and pressing their lips together, the most effective method of silencing Will known to man (scientifically proven). “I’ll make it. Chicken noodle okay?” 

Will watches as he starts to head towards the kitchen, shifting so that the arm that was just holding Mike is draped over the back of the couch. “Are you sure you’re up for it?” he asks, loud enough so that Mike can hear him, but quietly enough so that he doesn’t disturb him. 

“Soup is easy,” Mike answers, grabbing a pot and turning on the hood light. He reaches into the cupboard to the left of the stove and grabs the familiar red and white can, and then looks back over his shoulder at Will with a shit-eating grin. “At least, it’s easy for most of us.” 

“You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?” Will asks with a frown. 

“Not in this lifetime,” Mike says easily, pouring the soup into the pot he retrieved and moving it to the back of the stove. Once he’s flicked the burner on, he turns back towards Will and leans against the counter, still wearing that stupid, smug grin. 

Will sticks his tongue out at him. “Glad to see you’re feeling better, asshole.” 

“Much better,” Mike says. He casts a glance over his shoulder at the soup on the burner, then pushes off the counter and strides back over to the couch, leaning down and capturing Will’s lips in another kiss. His lips are dry and warm, and he’s annoying, and he doesn’t deserve to be attacked by his own head twice a month, and Will loves him so, so much. He pulls back, and Will just stares up at him, because when the only light is coming from a single lightbulb in the kitchen and the glow of the television, Mike is the brightest thing in the room. “Much, much better,” Mike says again, his lips brushing Will’s with every word, and then dives back in for another kiss. 

(There is not another soup incident, but it’s a close call.) 

[weewoow-2060307]

Imagine if Will has a really bad mental break down and he keeps rubbing the back of his neck and crying that it hurts but whenever someone would try to get near him he would scream at them to get away (cus he sees them as someone else) and then he suddenly rips something from the back of his neck, the chip... Seeing blood brings him out of his spiral (esp because Vecna was making the whole breakdown 10x worse) and he freaks out because there was a chip in the back of his neck and he might just be bleeding out.