Archive of Our Own ^beta

Will is warm under his hands. 

He always had been, even when they had been younger, a furnace of a human when Mike would toss an arm around his shoulder and crowd him close, tug their bodies together and feel the warmth seep into his side. It’s a good reminder, knowing that Will’s body is still his to control, no monster lurking, and he’ll never waver under Mike’s touch, and if Mike’s own hands find themselves stuffed up Will’s shirt in the winter for extra heat, then that’s his business only. 

Besides, it’s probably his right, as his boyfriend, but – boyfriend sounds trivial. Partner sounds like they’re – cowboys, or something. The love of Will Byers’ life sounds a lot more accurate. The guy currently shoving his tongue down Will’s mouth is just crude. 

It’s still true. 

Nonetheless, the last part is neither here nor there – actually, it is here, and there, and currently pulling him closer by the shirt and shoving a hand through his hair, nose brushing against his cheek and huffing into his mouth, mumbling, “Mike, you’re crushing me, you –” 

“You pulled me onto you,” Mike squawks, parting away to shuffle them in a more comfortable position. Someone should have told Mike about the troubles of making out on a couch, because, in theory, there should definitely be enough room for the both of them, but Mike had failed to consider the fact that he was currently pushing six foot one, and Will is, like, buff, now.

Not that he’s noticed. Or anything. 

Or maybe he has. 

Which – he’s allowed to notice, he remembers, because they’re dating, and that’s all fine and good and dandy, and especially when Will is strong and stuff, because his shoulders and arms are nice to grab onto, and his steady weight under Mike is even better during times like these, and Mike would fear crushing Will under him if not for the very obvious lack of complaint. 

Or, at least, there had been a lack of complaint, until – 

“Your – knees are so pointy,” Will groans, but it has no real bite to it when he doesn’t move from his spot, only wrapping a hand around Mike’s leg and shifting it a little, just to press against the side of Will’s thigh, and he lets out a sigh in, assumedly, relief, before trailing his hand up to hover against Mike’s spine, pressing into the ridges through the thin cotton of his shirt. 

Mike can barely hide a shudder, and Will sends him a grin. He squints. “My knees are normal shaped.” 

“Totally,” Will agrees, biting back a laugh, and it’s a sight so sweet that Mike has to kiss him about it. “That’s definitely a –” 

His words get squished between the space of his mouth and Mike’s; or, rather, the lack thereof, but he doesn’t seem to mind when he places his hands on Mike’s neck and simply angles him to the right, smiling when Mike presses a palm against his chest, the other curled around his jaw. It’s a good place to be. 

Even after their first kiss, which had lasted a prompt five seconds, with a stumble back and a, “Sorry, sorry, I don’t know why I –”, Mike had known Will to be a good kisser. 

This could maybe be faulted for the shiver that goes through him every time, like every strand of hair on his body is standing up straight, and Mike always feels electrified with every kiss, body rising with goosebumps under even the faintest of touches, but Mike can’t find it in him to be ashamed. It’s a nice feeling, and Will – Will is a good kisser. 

Still, perhaps he could chalk all of that up as a side effect of kissing someone with voltaic superpowers, electricity and lightning beams coursing under Will’s skin and bolts under his fingertips. Mike’s own body seems to go haywire when they kiss, and he can’t blame Will for losing a little control of his own powers, forgetting his own capabilities when – 

“Ow!” 

“Sorry!” Will apologizes almost immediately, voice high and surprised, and it’s ridiculous enough for Mike to let out a snort, even through the remnants of a static shock, small and minutely painful for where Will had clutched at him, hands drifting to hold against his bare ribcage. “I didn’t mean to!” 

Mike huffs a small laugh, leaning close to press their foreheads together. Will’s eyes are bright and wide when they look back at him, earnest as ever, and Mike feels endearment fold out tenfold in him. “I know,” he reassures easily. He swipes a thumb over Will’s cheek. “It’s okay.” 

“It’s stupid,” Will corrects, and Mike frowns. 

“No, it’s not,” he protests, and Will rolls his eyes. 

“It kind of is,” he mutters. “Seriously. I – I should have them in control already. It’s been months.” 

Mike shakes his head, rubbing his face against Will’s, and it earns him a small smile when their noses nudge together. “It’s not. It’s – I mean, come on. You just found out about them, like, four months ago, Will. No one expects you to be an expert with your powers.” 

“Still,” Will mumbles, just to be stubborn, and Mike tsks. 

“You’re allowed to shock me,” he decides, and Will blinks. “Boyfriend privileges.” He pauses, before adding, “It doesn’t even hurt.” 

Will raises his eyebrows. “Didn’t you just –” 

“No idea what you’re talking about,” Mike says, and his embarrassing insistence is worth it when Will lets out a light laugh, soft and summery. Mike readjusts himself, just to make sure his legs don’t go entirely numb when he’s crouched over Will like this, torsos pressed together and arms slotted together. “No idea.” 

“Uh-huh.” A smile teases at Will’s lips, amusement in his voice. It’s all too attractive. “Alright, tough guy.” 

“That’s me,” Mike beams, and Will’s smile tastes sweet when he comes in close for a kiss, catching him open-mouthed. 

Each kiss, wildly, feels like coming home, feels familiar, and feels like a weight off his shoulders, like it’s always meant to be this way, and any thought in his head immediately diminishes when Will runs a hand through his hair, fits against his mouth like he’s meant to be there, and when Mike swipes his tongue against the seam of lips, the hum of appreciation is worth the risk of being electrocuted. 

Not that Will would electrocute him. Probably. Not on purpose, at least. Mike wouldn’t blame him, though, because Will tugs at his hair, and the back of Mike’s eyelids go a little swirly, a little like he’s close to dumping his entire body weight onto Will and biting at him. 

Mike shuffles a little closer, body bending, and Will’s hands press him lower, further into his chest, and there’s a slight puff of breath when Mike nips at his lower lip, soothing it over with another quick kiss, and licking at his teeth. 

He’s almost entirely caught up in the sensation of Will against him, too aware of the firmness of his chest, the insistent touch of his hands, and the warmth of him all over, to notice the slow, dull red that rises behind his closed eyes. 

It’s the sort that comes from staring up at sunlight with shut eyes, flashlights pressed against his eyelids, and the wince of flash photography. Mike can’t find himself questioning it until it’s noticeable enough for his eyes to shoot open, and then –

The first thing he registers is that it’s bright. Very bright. 

The alarm has him flinching upward, enough for Will to click out a slight whine, before he opens his eyes. 

He pauses. “Oh.” 

“Oh,” Mike echoes, where every lamp around them beams brightly, shining startlingly scintillatingly, and the Christmas lights strung around the room glitter brilliantly, enough so that Mike is sure the house resembles a lighthouse. 

It’s pretty, though, undeniably, and also at the cause of Will, who grimaces in embarrassment, and the light bulbs dim down almost immediately when he shoves his face into Mike’s neck, hot breath against his collarbones and lips brushing against his skin when he groans. “This sucks.” 

“It’s cute!” Mike defends, and Will shakes his head. “That was – it’s nice, Will. Come on.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Will’s nose presses against his neck. “Whatever.” 

“It was cute,” Mike says, one last time. “Do it again.” 

That brings Will’s flushed face out to look at him, looking put-out and mortified. “You’re ridiculous,” he replies, and it feels like a compliment. 

Mike pokes a finger into his cheek. “Yeah.” 

Will rolls his eyes again, fond, and it does nothing to stop the fluttery feeling in Mike’s chest, the kind that makes him all giddy and flustered around him. Mike kisses him on the cheek, right on a freckle next to the quirk of his lips, and Will flushes red underneath it. It earns him another kiss on the forehead. 

It’s a pleasant surprise when the light bulbs pulse again, too bright to be natural, and Will’s face turns pinker. 

Mike grins. “You like me,” he proudly proclaims, and Will groans. 

“I was just kissing you,” he huffs, but he can’t hide the smile in his voice even when he turns away, shoving his face into the couch cushion below. His cheek and the side of his neck is entirely accessible to the flurry of kisses Mike delivers, and even when Will brings up a hand to cover his face, the lights betray him when they shine bright. 

Even amidst the teasing, Mike can admit, a confirmation that Will likes him as much as he does, that he feels the same stutter of a heart, makes his stomach flip inside out. Nothing quite compares to the swoop of something sweet in his chest when Will spares him the time of day, some part of Mike always bending backwards for his attention. 

“You like me,” Mike says again, and it’s softer this time. 

Will peeks through his fingers, eyes scrunched when they stare at him, and his hands fall away. His cheeks are positively pink, and he’s smiling. Mike returns it easily. 

The lights shimmer in response. “I do.” 

Mike can’t help it when he sweeps Will up again, pressing them close in a kiss. It’s short and sweet, the butterflies racking up in Mike’s stomach when he feels Will’s fingers stumble alongside his side, touching his ribcage. 

“Good,” he breathes out when he finally leans away. Will’s smile gleams his way. “Me, too.” 

Of course, I do, he thinks, Will’s mouth on his. 

The lights glimmer brightly, and it’s worth all the static shocks in the world.