Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was just over a week before Christmas, and Mike’s house was buzzing. Holly was practically bouncing off the walls, begging their mom to tell her what her gifts were. Nancy was wrapping gifts for Jonathan and Steve and Robin in the living room, and Karen fixed their record player, flipping it to the B side so carols could waft through the house. Mike pretended to hate it, complained it was too much every year, but he really did love it.

It was even more special to him with the Byers staying at their house, with Will staying, if he was honest with himself. The Byers celebrated Christmas only so far as to give gifts to their friends, and attend Karen’s parties. They didn’t have a tree up at their house, when they had their own place- no stockings on their walls. Mike could hardly believe the week was on them already, but suddenly it was sunset and Will was leaning away from him, walking up to his mom and saying almost quietly, “Come downstairs and do the menorah now?”

Jonathan looked up from the kitchen where he had been jailed, eyes safely away from Nancy’s gifts. “Oh yeah, first night of Chanukah is tonight, isn’t it?” He wasn’t as quiet as Will, more sure of the stark difference in holidays between the two families. Mike perked up, fingers twitching in his pocket where he had hidden a mesh bag, gelt bulging through the cheap material.

“You guys should bring the Menorah here!” he said excitedly. A twinge of embarrassment went through him when he remembered his many Christmas’ the Byers had celebrated with them, while he had never really participated in their holidays. It wasn’t intentional, they had just never offered, and he didn’t want to intrude. But now they were living together, and his basement didn’t have any windows anyway.

“If you’re… like- if you’re comfortable with it,” he added awkwardly. “We can keep it by the window in the living room.”

Will had looked down, unsure, but at his last comment his eyes widened, pleased but surprised. You remembered, his body language seems to say, and Mike feels heat rise to his cheeks at the look. Of course he remembered, how couldn’t he? Which was exactly what he told Will with a slight nod and a shy uptick of his lips.

Ted looked up from his newspaper, mumbling something like, “Aren’t they going to pray to light it?” and Mike couldn’t tell if it was pure curiosity or if judgment lingered in his tone, but it hardly mattered because soon Karen was elbowing him and he winced out a smile.

“We’d love to celebrate with you, if you’re comfortable with it, as Mike said,” his mom agreed, flashing him a genuine smile. “What a lovely idea, Micheal.”

Joyce seemed uncomfortable. “I mean, if you’re sure…? It’s no problem for us to do it in the basement, really.”

But Karen’s shaking her head, no. “Nonsense. You put up with all our festivities,” she cried out, reaching a hand to wave around them at the decorations and cookies and music as if that says it all. Nancy is nodding, looking up now too, interested.

“Well…” Joyce starts, turning to look at her boys. Jonathan shrugs, Why not? and Will gives her a small smile, so she continues, “Ok, sure.”

Will heads downstairs, and Mike follows so he can help carry everything. He lets their shoulders bump on the way down, grinning stupidly as he hears Will let out a huff of fond exasperation.

“I’m glad I can experience this with you,” he says as his boyfriend piles his arms with candles and lighters.

“Yeah?” he asks, hands lingering over Mike’s arms.

“Mhm,” he says, earnest. “I was always curious, but I never wanted to overstep.”

And- god, Will was blushing, cheeks tinged pink and his lips twitching up at the corners.

“I love you,” he whispered, instead of answering Mike, who leaned over, arms still full as he pressed his own lips to those corners, kissing the boy before him. His gaze darted to the basement door but it remained closed, thankfully. Will picked up their menorah- silver, with small birds lining the bottom and candle holders like branches, slipping it under his arm. His other hand clutched a small book, the same one Joyce stumbled over on the occasions Mike came over to their place for a Saturday dinner. He knew it held Shabbat prayers, and probably others, too.

“I love you too,” Mike whispered, pulling away regretfully from the touch. “I can’t believe we’ve never done this before,” he admits. Another pang of guilt hits him, but Will is smiling, eyes twinkling as he jabs in and teases.

“I think we’ve kissed more than once or twice before,” he says.

Mike tries to scoff, but it turns into a laugh as he shakes his head. “No, idiot,” he says fondly, before his voice lowers, genuine once more as he explains, “I can’t believe I’ve never properly celebrated one of your holidays before. I- I feel bad about it,” he admitted, chewing on his lip. “I should have- well, we’ve known each other so long-“ he starts, before Will cuts him off with a shrug.

“It’s ok,” he says, but the words are quiet, like Mike’s admission dissolved a small tension coiled up in him. “I never thought- I mean, I thought it would be kinda personal and I’d be in the way. But it’s important to you, more religious than Christmas is to me, that’s for sure,” he’s joking, trying not to dampen the mood as he forced himself to acknowledge his guilt, “so I’m glad I can learn more about it. I don’t want you to think I didn’t care, or something. I’m sorry if it came across like that ever,” he admits. Will shifts and the Menorah must be heavy, Mike realizes. It looks like pure silver, catching the dim day lights as Will’s eyes find Mike’s.

“No- no don’t be sorry. I knew you were ok with it, it’s just… it’s cool you want to be a part of it. I didn’t expect that.”

Mike shrugs, trying to act cool as if it’s not his turn yet again for burning cheeks and flushed crimson skin
up his neck.

“Of course I do,” he’s saying, smiling, and then Joyce is calling down to them, “Boys! Did you find everything?” and the moment is broken.

“Yes, mom, coming!” Will shouts back, shooting Mike a grin that mirrors his own. He leans in for another quick kiss before sighing, playing at being annoyed.

“Guess we should head upstairs, huh?” he asks, and Mike nods.

“Guess we better,” he says, eyes reflecting the basement’s lights.

Chapter Text

When they all were upstairs, pink light from the slowly dipping sky spreading like watercolors across the sky, Joyce takes the book of prayers from Will. She indicates to Mike to hand the candles to her eldest son, and he does so eagerly, interest peaking.

“You’ve gotta do them left to right,” he’s explaining, “except for this candle- the shamash, which we put in the middle. This candle lights all the others, though we’ll only light one other tonight.”

“You add a candle everyday, right?” Nancy asks, and even Ted has put away his newspaper for once, sitting at the dining room table with them.

“That’s right,” Joyce answers her with a smile before closing her throat and reading the Hebrew words before her. Jonathan equates them after her, in English.

She stands before them then, eyes closed for a beat. Everyone follows her lead, breath held as they try to be respectful. When the moment passes, Karen stands up, reaching for the kitchen gloves with an almost imperceptible sigh, but Joyce calls out with an audible grin, “We try not to let women work while the candles are going.”

Karen turns around as she removes her dish gloves,
dropping them on the counter and sitting across from Joyce. “Huh. I think this Hanukkah thing might be growing on me.”

“Wait until you find out about Shabbat,” Nancy stage whispers, and Holly laughs though she couldn’t possibly know what she means. Mike laughs too, and Will’s eyes are wide again.

“Again with the surprise?” he teases, “I’ve literally had Shabbat at your house for years,” he adds.

“Well, yeah, but I didn’t think you’d remember all the rules and everything,” he admits.

Mike turns to his sister, hand flailing dramatically. “He thinks I don’t listen to him or something!”

“Yeah, well, you do have quite the selective hearing, Micheal,” Karen mutters, but her eyes are cracked in a slight smile.

“Do we still have to stand here?” Holly interrupts, and Karen laughs nervously. Joyce isn’t offended at all, though, of course, and instead shakes her head no.

“I’ll stay and watch the candles for safety,” Jonathan offers, “I think I’m still banished from the living room.”

Nancy is quick to protest. “Only for a minute or two longer!” They all laugh then, and Nancy and Holly slip away.

Joyce smiles at her boys, letting them know their gifts are downstairs for whenever they would like them.

“Gifts?!” Karen exclaims. “Goodness, I don’t have any prepared.”

“Oh you really don’t have to-“ she starts, but Nancy is already calling from the other room. “You have another seven days, Mom, best get shopping.” Her voice got louder as she moved back to the dining room, a small gift in blue wrapping offsetting the sea of reds and greens hidden behind her back. Mike raised his eyebrows, but said nothing.

She stopped before Jonathan, holding the gift out. Her arms were extended all the way, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she clearly bit down a smile. “Happy Hanukkah,” she says, and he looks at the gift almost in disbelief. His hand reaches out slowly, almost as if he expects her to yank her arm backwards, snatching up the gift and howling something vile like, “Ha! You really thought?”

All hesitation, however, is gone the minute their fingers touch over the wrapping paper. He brings the present to his chest and starts to open it when suddenly, Nancy is swatting him. “Open it later, not now.” Oh? Mike thinks, but he doesn’t have much room to speak because his own gifts are hidden in his pocket and backpack upstairs, where he can give them to Will when they’re alone. That doesn’t stop him from teasing her, though, as per his younger brother duties require.

“Wow, must be something pretty bad, huh?” he says, winking.

“You know it's not,” Nancy all but scoffs. “Jesus, Mike.”

“Language,” their mother calls out, but it sounds more like a rote habit than an actual reminder. Mike laughs, and oddly enough Jonathan does too, quirking his lips in a

motion when Nancy tried to silently scold him.

Will laughed too, and now he’s raising a teasing eyebrow at Mike that his boyfriend knows how to read all too well. What, no gift for me?

It says everything the youngest Byers can’t, out loud and surrounded by their families. Well- Mike’s family, really. But that doesn’t matter. Complications like that don’t matter when it means Will is so vividly expressive, his cheeks twitching as they fight the urge to rise up on his face, one eyebrow lifted in a perfect arch that Mike thinks is so unfair because why can he do that when Mike so clearly can’t? He’s been trying for ages, but to no avail. And he looks so stupidly cute, Mike has to swallow down what definitely is not an actual giggle bubbling in his chest.

In response to Will’s silent question, Mike merely shrugs, eyes alight with the reflection of the candles and the playful edge they’ve taken on. His lips scrunch at the side of his mouth, fighting a losing battle to remain straight, neutral on his face.

His boyfriend tilts his head to the side then, curious, and it has to be a surprise, so Mike distracts them, tackling Holly and poking her until she’s laughing so hard she’s hiccuping.

“Why don’t- hic- why don’t we get presents today?” she asks her mother, eyes wide like she’s all too aware of the affect they have on most adults. Which she probably is, the little devil.

And though Karen smiles, she shakes her head, answering, “It’s not time for our presents. This is a special night for the Byers, ok?”

Holly squints, considering, and then drops it. “Ok,” she says, shrugging. Mike is amazed. Plenty of kids her age would throw a fit having to watch other people receive gifts with nothing in it for them, but Holly’s always been different from plenty of the kids her age. She’s always been more empathetic, more understanding. More sensitive, but in a way that made her oddly mature for her young age.

Mike swelled with pride at the realization, reaching down to ruffle her hair. She dodged, huffing through another small chuckle. “Mike!” she cries, indignant as she smooths down her two pigtails.

“What?” he asks innocently.

They all sit around the table or on the couch, and chatter quietly as the candles flicker, their flames melting in with the soft glow of Christmas lights strung around the house.

When they eventually burn down, wax dripping off the silver branches and solidifying onto carved beaks and tail feathers, Joyce stands, eager to be the first in the kitchen to help clean up the mess from dinner. Jonathan waits for the Menorah to cool before grabbing a knife and picking out the dried wax so it’ll be usable tomorrow. He leaves the Menorah on the windowsill, and it fits perfectly between Karen's small snowman figure and a book of Holly’s she had left out. It sits there, reflecting the greens and blues and yellows of festive lights, as if that was its place. It makes Mike’s chest swell again, warm and content with belonging. It's no longer the “Wheeler house,” now, it's the “Byler-Wheeler house,” and their new housemates are comfortable enough around them to share this night with them.

Once it’s over, and everyone is getting ready to head to their respective rooms, Mike all but runs upstairs, locking his door behind him.

“Mike, what the hell,” Will shouts in surprise, his voice muffled by the door.

“Sorry! One sec,” he calls back, racing to his backpack and grabbing the gift from his backpack, along with the gelt and laying it out in the center of the bed. He had to undergo some seriously torturous teasing from Murray to get Hanukkah themed wrapping paper, as well as the gift itself, but it was worth it of course. Jonathan, Robin and Murray were the only ones who knew about them, and it was only because they all had noticed at some point or other.

But none of that mattered right now. What mattered was his boyfriend, who just so happened to be close to banging their door down.

“Yeah, yeah, calm down, I’m coming,” Mike calls as he scrambles up.

“Well if yo-“ Will stopped short, falling forward as his body weight, which he was leaning on the closed door, became suddenly unsupported. He fell with an oomph! into the gangly boy’s chest, and Mike barely saved them from the hardwood by reaching out around his boyfriend, hands gripping the doorframe tightly.

“D’n get oo ‘citd, yet” he was joking with his head smooshed into the solid chest surrounding him.

“What?”

“Don’t get too excited yet,” he said after pulling away, grabbing Will’s hand and leading him to the bed. He watches the boy’s eyes widen in surprise as he takes in the gift, and the chocolate on top of it. Mike always gives him something for Hanukkah, but with the “earthquake” and Hawkins being on lockdown- well, let's just say Will wasn’t expecting anything too personal.

But no, of course Mike Wheeler found a way. Mike, who was stubborn and loyal and persistent to a fault.

Will peels open a few of the gelt

Chapter Text

The second day of Hanukkah passed quickly, and this time Karen was better prepared. She fixed a fried turkey for dinner, following the tradition of oily foods, and even Ted had to admit he didn’t mind celebrating if it meant more meals like this one.

Will had dragged a few ancient draidels from his house since they had somehow gotten mixed in with his DnD dice. Mike and Nancy listened attentively while Holly pretended to follow, and soon all the kids were gambling coins and chores over the holiday game.

Holly was amazing at the game, and Mike would have had to clean her room for the next month for sure if Will didn’t take pity on him and stop the game before their next round.

They had done some Christmas shopping that day, the two of them. Will had promised his mom he would find something great for the Wheelers, though Mike didn’t seem that worried. Once Lucas and El’s gifts were gotten, they had gone home for that dinner.

Now, the candles sputter before them, almost out of wax already. As he turns over in bed, his head nuzzling into the crook of his boyfriend’s neck, Mike can’t remember how long it’s been since he’s felt like this, like something has shifted and locked in place beside him. It's really nice, and chestnut hair is the least thing he sees as his eyes droop and he’s taken over with sleep.

Chapter Text

By the third night, Karen had been waiting eagerly for sunset, the previous night’s wax was carefully melted off the menorah and the silver was polished with her attentive care.

She had presents for Jonathan and Will, passing out camera film and new canvases in blue bags. Joyce told them the story of the holiday's origins, and Ted only tried to add his own tidbits a few times before he realized his wife might actually bruise him with all the elbowing and tight smiles. Once he got the hint, though, the history was captivating.

“If you like this, wait until Purim,” Will whispers to Holly when his mother finishes. “We get to dress up in costumes like Halloween.” Her eyes light up.

“Really?” she asks, shifting excitedly in her seat before turning to her mom. “Can we do that?”

Karen’s eyes widen in surprise, but her shoulders don’t hold their usual tension, in fact, she looks more relaxed than Mike has seen her in a while. “Of course we can, sweetie, but only if the Byers are comfortable with it,” she adds quickly.

“Of course, gosh we’d love to, wouldn’t we?” Joyce asks Jonathan.

“We haven’t dressed up for Purim in ye-“ Jonathan mutters, but with a pointed look from his mother he turns on an awkward, lopsided sort of smile. “Gosh I miss that tradition,” he says, quickly changing tracks. “Of course we would.”

Joyce rolls her eyes but she’s smiling. “There will be cookies, too,” she adds conspiratorially to the youngest Wheeler.

Her eyes are as big as the dinnerplates before her. “Oh awesome,” she exclaims.

The idea that they’ll still be this close, maybe even still living together when Purim rolls around sends a warmth straight up Mike’s spine, and he can’t resist a smile at his boyfriend across the table from him.

“Awesome,” he repeats. And it really is.

Chapter Text

They were basically halfway through Hanukkah now, and Christmas was officially a week away. If you were to walk into the Wheeler-Byer’s house today, you would see nothing but a hurricane of chaos, excitement and planning and holiday stress at an all time high.

Mike watches with a grimace as his little sister slathers her challah with butter before putting the leftover turkey between two slices of it.

“Definitely not kosher,” he winces, and it’s Joyce who responds with a laugh.

“Neither are we,” she admits while Will nods.

“God, I love pizza too much for that.”

“Amen,” Jonathan agrees, appearing from nowhere beside them. Mike jumps slightly, and his hand brushes Will’s with the movement.

Suddenly, in this loud house, filled with Christmas music and littered with gelt wrappers, with Holly singing off-key and Jonathan’s arm wrapped around his older sister, Mike is overcome with the urge to grab his boyfriend’s hand. He wants to lean his head on Will’s shoulder, receive a kiss on his temple and just properly exist around everyone in this house.

Unfortunately, that’s not exactly possible, so he does the next best thing.

“Hey Will, you said we should probably get a better lighter for tonight, yeah?”

He watches Will’s face turn to him, eyebrows shifting ever so slightly upward, a questioning tilt to his lips.

“From upstairs,” Mike presses, hoping the message will catch on. The look remains on the boy’s face for a few seconds, and then-

“Oh yeah! This one is ok, but I think the flame is awkward. Uh, lead the way?” Mike nodded, and everyone seemed to believe it, but as soon as they hit the stairs, the teasing begins.

“A better lighter,” Will asks, trying not to laugh.

“Shut up,” Mike whisper-groans, but he’s already tugging Will to his room, pressing their lips together before he can get the door properly closed.

“Oh, hello then,” Will responds once they’ve pulled away.

Mike doesn’t answer, just nods and goes in for another kiss, which is obliged eagerly, at least for a moment, and then his boyfriend is pulling away again, a smile lifting his rose tinted cheeks.

“What’s all this for?”

Mike can’t help his answering grin. “You,” is all he says, snaking one hand around the sturdy waist before him and wrapping the other in familiar locks of chestnut hair. Will’s eyes light up in surprise and Mike feels something warm settle inside him.

The other boy’s eyebrows raise as he's dragged to the bed but Mike has nothing suggestive in mind, instead collapsing on his soft sheets and pulling his boyfriend beside him. Once Will lands with a startled huff and the traces of his smile still lingering, Mike plops his head of curls on the strong chest next to him, listening to the thump thump, thump thump reverberating through it.

“So you dragged me here under false pretenses just to collapse on my chest, mm?” Will mumbles, already getting comfortable himself, one hand finding its way to those raven curls he knows so well.

Mike responds verbally but it’s swallowed by the flannel his face is crushed into, and so he just nods.

“Pretty much,” he tries again, this time lifting his face just enough to get the words to carry.

“Alright.”

They lay there for quite some time, pressing gentle kisses into curls and temples and lips every once in a while.

It hadn’t been nearly as long as they’d like it to be when Nancy shouts from downstairs.

“Did the lighter end up in Alaska or what?”

Mike groans. “Oh shit,” he cries, getting up suddenly but reluctantly while Will laughs through his nose. “Mgh, I don’t want to go down there. I want to stay up here with you,” he complains.

“I’m coming with you, silly.”

“I know…” and doesn’t have to add the but because of course Will knows, reassuring him with a kiss to the top of his head.

“We can resume this later tonight, ok?” he promises, electing a nod of agreement, or at least compromise.

“Ok,” Mike mumbles, but he’s almost pouting and it’s so petulant he almost looks like that young boy Will sat with during every recess since kindergarten. He looks a bit like a puppy, actually, and it’s unbearably cute.

“I hope you actually have another lighter?” he asks, eyes narrowing in bemused suspicion.

The pout dissolves instantly, shifting into a smirk as Mike pulls a zippo from his desk drawer and holds it up triumphantly.

The menorah is half full now and it’s beautiful, glowing not unlike Mike later that night, wrapped in Will’s arms with kisses pressed to his mouth, to his soft hair.

Will thinks this might be his favorite Hanukkah yet.

Chapter Text

Mike was surprised to find himself looking at the clock and the window all day, eagerly awaiting sunset.

Joyce sees his excitement, waving him over. “Want to help us light them tonight?” She asks with an inviting smile.

“No pressure,” Will adds quickly, but Mike is already swallowing down a lump of nerves and nodding.
“Yeah, no I- I’d be honored. Yeah, for sure,” he spits out intelligently. Still, it’s an honest reply and he shoots Nancy a Holy shit type of grin as he maneuvers around the table to stand by his boyfriend. She flashed him a small thumbs up, and Karen smiled proudly. Ted had only put his newspaper down for this because his wife has been forcing him to all week.

Will, knowing exactly what he was doing, leaned behind Mike, reaching around his shoulder and showing him where to place each candle. “We light them from right to left,” he started explaining, “the same way we read Hebrew.”

“O-ok,” Mike said, hoping his flush was interpreted by their families as just nerves. He held his breath as he placed the candles in their right spots, using the shamash as he had seen Jonathan and Joyce do for the past few nights.

“That’s perfect, sweetie,” Joyce encouraged him before starting the night’s prayers. Jonathan translated them to English as he had every night, and then Karen was turning to the record player and they all sat down for dinner, soft jazz playing in the background.

Chapter Text

By the sixth night, it was all routine. The joy of the holidays were still present, especially with Christmas in less than a week, but it was no longer something novel.

The Byers were used to sharing this with their housemates now, and even Ted knew what to expect come sunset. Karen and Mike especially loved it, and Nancy seemed to enjoy soaking in the candle light. She had started humming along to some of the prayer songs Joyce would sing for them.

“I was wondering if we’d like to do something extra special for the last night in two days?” Mike hears his mom ask over dinner. “Maybe you and Jonathan can invite your friends over?” she says to Will.

Jonathan doesn’t have friends, but the invitation extends to Lucas and Dustin too, of course.

Will look at Mike, asking a silent question. Would they even want to celebrate with us? and Mike knows his friends, knows they’ll support Will, so he nods slightly. If you want to, go ahead.

“Sure, thank you,” he says, polite as always.

“Oh don’t be silly, sweetie. It’s a big deal!”

Joyce seems embarrassed, unsure, but once Will and Karen have gotten her on board, she’s talking food prep with Karen and thinking about which ingredients they’ll need.

By the end of the night, Mike is radioing his friends with Will behind him, one hand on his back as a comforting gesture while he invites them to dinner in a couple days.

“Free food? Hell yeah I’m in. Over,” Lucas declares, and Dustin asks if there will be Challah.

“Obviously, over.” Will has leaned over Mike again to
get close enough for the walkie’s microphone to pick up on his message, but this time they’re alone in Mike’s room, so he leans back into the touch, tilting his head up and waiting for Will to turn off the walkie so he could look up and kiss him.

“Mmm,” Mike mumbles from against Will’s lips. “I needed this today.”

Will pulls away to settle beside him, head in the crook of his boyfriend’s shoulder. “Me too,” he smiled into the base of Mike’s neck. “Me too.”

Chapter Text

It was the day before their big dinner, and Karen had them all running around the house like headless chickens. Holly sits doodling a drawing of Santa, and Mike exchanged a knowing glance with his older sister as they both tried not to give anything away.

“It really does look like Murray,” she mutters under her breath, leaving Mike in a coughing fit trying to suppress his laughter.

“Ok, Jonathan, silverware please,” Karen is asking, an apron snug around her and she’s already moving on to admonish her son, “Mike, I told you, Joyce said the potato shreds need to be thinner than that.”

Joyce shifts in her own seat, a small smile playing across her face as she whispers, “Well, they don’t really have to be that precise…” but even she fears Mrs. Wheeler’s wrath and makes sure the comment goes unheard. Still, Mike catches it and shoots her a grateful look. Will is chopping onions beside Mike and they are preparing tomorrow’s latkes together under their mother’s joint supervision.

The day is chaotic and honestly a bit stressful, but when the sky starts to turn pink the Chanukiah gives them a reason to rest, and they all soak up the hour or so it takes for the candles to burn down, legs heavy and minds spent after the long day.

“It’s nice,” Karen starts after a long silence during which they all get lost, thoughts wild as they watch the dancing flames, “To have something that really, well, not forces you, but strongly encourages you- to rest, to take a break. A reason to slow down.”

“You could just decide to slow down, you don’t have to push yourself so much,” Nancy responds and then almost everyone is laughing.

“You’re one to talk,” Mike quips, using his sibling privileges to voice what everyone at the table is thinking. She huffs in reply, but she’s grinning.

“Yeah, yeah.”

And suddenly, they all can breathe, settled here beside each other. Holly hums while she draws, and Jonathan does the dishes once the lights are out, and Mike and Will go up to their room.

“Will?” he asks once they’ve gotten comfortable in the dark.

“Mhm?” comes the sleepy reply.

“Thank you. For sharing this with us.”

“Oh. Yeah. Thanks for… wanting to be a part of it.”

Mike hums contentedly. “Always,” he replies before the two of them drift to sleep.

Chapter Text

They walked in the tunnels, and Mike pretended he didn’t even notice, much less get bothered by Will and Robin lagging behind, whispering in the dark. Then, suddenly, they weren’t so quiet anymore, laughing and giggling and- what? Grabbing each other’s arms apparently, when Lucas called out to them, “Hey guys, take your time, will ya?”

Mike bit down his wave of irritation as Robin approached.

“Did you finally hit Dick?” She asked, and despite the serious situation, Mike is still a teenage boy.

”Hit the Dick.” Lucas calls back, and Mike agrees.

“Yup. Let’s just hope it’s not too hard,” he replies, grinning at his friend who catches on instantly.

“If it is, I’ll soften it.” Despite his statement, it’s Mike who eventually breaks the ceiling above them, accidentally bursting one of the bathroom pipes with his shovel.

“Oh shit,” he said as soon as he realized. Joyce’s eyes widened but she sent the signal to Derek to start bringing the first of the kids to the bathroom. They have a good handful of kids with them when Mike feels something wet on his face from above. Crawling up the ladder into the bathroom, he finds one of the pipes shooting out a stream of water, spraying everywhere from directly under the sink.

”Shit,” must be the word of the day, because when he lays his eyes on the messy scene, it’s the first thing he says. Before he knows it, Mike and Will are on the floor, hands slipping over each other as they struggle to maintain the incoming flood.

”Airlock- wrap it with your jacket. Wrap it with your jacket,” he cried out, and if this were any other situation he’d be reveling in how quickly Will responded, twisting to take off his outermost layer and shouting, “I got it,” but as it was the water was seeping over them, leaving them soaked to the bone as a young girl came in.

He and Will pointed her to the tunnels, and yet another girl is close behind her but when she sees them, her eyes widen and suddenly she’s running out again, calling to the soldiers outside.

”Shit,” Mike says for at least the third time that day. Derek bursts through, three or four kids with him, and they’re all underground in an instant, but he and Will and Derek stay behind, barricading the door, trying to keep it closed until they get enough manpower and then Mike’s shoulder leaves his vision white-hot with pain as he’s slammed to the floor. They’ve been caught, but most of the kids were safe- underground with Robin and Lucas, long gone. Which was a good thing, he realized vaguely, because Joyce (and unfortunately the last three kids) had stayed behind for them and they were caught, too.

They were all brought outside, held back with soldiers surrounding them while Joyce tried to explain just how much danger these kids were in. Derek was yelling and the soldiers were retaliating but none of that mattered because Will was panting, having fallen to his knees and Mike was shouting his name, fighting off three officers trying to get to him. He saw Joyce’s arms fall around him, and knew they would steady him, but it wasn’t enough. Mike had to get to him, now.

He was distracted, though, by the fiercest show of flickering lights he had ever seen. He knew what was happening, body reacting before his brain as he held his arms out to the few kids that had been caught with them.

“Guys! Guys! Guys!” He called out, “Get behind me! Get behind me!” They’re all younger than Will was when he was taken, and Mike would be damned if anything happened to them. The floor ripped open, a chasm of bright red light pouring over them as a Demogorgon leapt out, staggering but standing its ground while bullets rain down from all sides. As if guns could hurt it. All Mike can do is use himself as a human shield for the little ones, repeating “Stay behind me,” like a prayer.

”We’re getting out of here, alright? Eyes on me, stay close,” he called, leading them away from the danger. Will was still collapsed on the floor, and Mike could only imagine the pain he’s in, the absolute agony of a thousand bullets ripping into flesh that feels like your own while your vision blurs, different angles pulling at your vision like wires on a puppet.

“Will, come on, come on,” he urged softly, trying to support his weight, to lift him up or at least assist Joyce with that, as her arms were already firmly around her son. He helped her carry Will until a Demo jumped right over him, and he had to dodge out of the way, rushing forward to narrowly escape a collision. He keeps his eyes on the kids, comforted by Joyce’s steady grip on his best friend. The kids were screaming and he was trying desperately to keep it together, telling them to stay close and mentally cursing the military for being so cocky and so secretive and so sure of themselves, for putting all these kids in danger.

He does his best to keep them calm, leading them around a building and laying out a new plan- get to the tunnels and head to the radio shack.

”Eyes on me, remember?” He told them, thinking of all the things he was too young to see. Images of cracked necks and allegedly dead bodies, of El vanishing into his middle school walls and Bob getting eaten alive all danced in the corners of his mind as he makes sure the kids are exposed to as little of this as possible. He knows he’ll never forgive himself if something happens to one of them. His hands were out like a shield again, but it’s useless because there’s a Demo on either side of them, and then it’s hot, so so hot, and one of the monsters is getting flamed in front of him, a faceless man in a silver suit with a flamethrower before him, the kids still tucked close behind him.

He can hear, throughout the noise of the battlefield, Will screaming. He’d recognize that voice anywhere, and he’s in pain. The fire, Mike remembered, burns him too. The sound cuts him like glass, painfully loud through the cacophony surrounding him, and somehow finds its way directly into his heart. Something else stabs at him, too.

Mike sensed it before he felt it- the presence. He turned to the large gate in the center of the base, and a tall shadow greets him. The thin, flesh-like veil between the two worlds pulls thin and rips apart, and there he was- Vecna. Henry. One. Mr. Fucking Whatsit if thats what he wants to call himself, and when the bullets turned to him, he didn’t even stagger like a Demo. It’s almost as if his writhing, veiny body was absorbing every impact, swallowing every shell that collides into him. His arms were shooting out around him and grown men flew like rag dolls until some brave (or incredibly stupid) soul tried to use the flamethrower. Vecna deflected the flames, pushing them out and back with a force that knocked Mike and his group out, landing him on the floor for the second time that day. Everything seems to be engulfed in flames and the screaming had died down but it was still there; Mike wasn’t sure which sounds were current and which were an echo in his mind, his brain needing more time to process everything than their situation allows them.

Vecna turned to face Will, his intentions obvious despite the current distance between them, and Joyce stands angrily over her son, shouting, “Stay away from him! You stay away!” But Vecna tosses her in the air at least five feet high, flinging her in a long arc until she’s collapsed, too. When Vecna lifted Will into the air, raising his hand around his head in that oddly possessive manner he so enjoys, Mike couldn’t hear what he said to him. Apparently, taunting Will was all he was interested in, as he leaves the kids in the wreckage around them and turns back into the gate, disappearing once more into the Upside Down. Mike can’t think of why, but he’s not exactly aware enough of his surroundings to take much in at the moment.

Hell, he was hardly aware of anything but the Demogorgon that had crawled from the pit in front of him, and all he could think was Get up Wheeler, you are not dying in the feral position on the floor. Get up!” He isn’t sure how he managed it, honestly, legs shaking like jello beneath him as he lifts an arm, curling it protectively around his face because the creature before him was several feet in the air, and it was running right at him and- and slowly he lets himself unfurl, staring in confusion and shock and relief. It’s shaking in front of him, almost as if it’s been frozen in place and fuck it’s still terrifying, but all Mike can think is Why aren’t I dead? I should be dead.

Then his gaze moved beyond the Demo and he saw it. Saw him- Will. Standing, shoulders set and so sure, feet planted strongly on the ground and one arm raised outward. He’s doing it- he has to be. His sorcerer just saved his god damned life.

He raises a second hand, and then jerks his head up, milky white eyes tilting up at the motion- when did his pupils disappear? His irises? He looks, well, he looks like magic personified, pure raw power and confidence and safety, and Mike watches in awe as the Demogorgon before him lifts up, bones snapping the same way a tearful Lucas had once described Max’s attack to him. It fell with a thump, and Will followed soon after, landing upright, on his knees. His face was slicked with sweat from the obvious exertion, hair curling around his forehead but his eyes were already back to their beautiful hazel shade, almost dark brown in this lighting, and a single line of blood fell from his nose. His gaze is determined, focused even now as the Demo is dead and he wipes the liquid from his face in one fluid motion and- God, Mike does not need to think about how that look on Will’s face was making him feel because now was really not the time, but with the fires blazing all around them, military both dead and alive in piles on the ground, Mike realized he would never let go of Will again.

He’ll never be able to get over him, but that’s ok because holy fuck he just needs this absolute magic in his life, and god he wants to run forward and cup his face, hold him and- Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

Will collapsed, clearly having over exerted himself. Mike didn’t even think, he rushed forward.

”Will! Will! Will, come on,” he screams, and it quickly devolved into begging, but Mike doesn’t care- he doesn’t care about anything other than Will waking up, Will breathing and being able to stand up and- Fuck, why isn’t he moving?

Mike was half draped over his body, careful not to put his weight on the weakened boy as he frantically pulled out his wallet, finding the letter inside and removing it with shaking hands. He checked once more, resting his head on Will’s chest and hearing nothing, feeling nothing. A sharp sob wracks through him, cutting his throat as it takes up all the space inside him, leaving no room for oxygen.

His trembling fingers nearly dropped the letter if not for his vise-like on the page, and he slipped it into his best friend’s back pocket. “Please don't leave me. You can’t leave me- you can’t just- just trade my life for yours. You’re worth so much more than that, WIll,” he’s crying, tears blurring his vision and suddenly Joyce’s familiar hands are wrapped around his arms pulling him up as she checks him over, assessing him for wounds before diving over to her son.

“Is there a doctor?” She shouted. “For fuck’s sake, we need a doctor out here!” A medic rushed over, and Mike refused to leave his side, lifting him with one of the nurses or paramedics or someone- he doesn’t know and doesn’t care who- staring stubbornly as they tried to have him wait outside the base.

”I’m coming with him,” he demanded, and something in his voice convinces them, gets them to allow Mike to accompany them to a medical office of sorts.

He thought suddenly of the letter, realized only then when Will was getting help how exposed it is, and how exposed he is, subsequently. If- When Will wakes up, he’ll surely find it, something Mike for some reason hadn’t really thought about when he slipped in his jean’s pocket.

Mike would deal with that later though, go through a thousand awkward conversations and painful rejections as long as they are from a living, breathing WIll Byers. Not this shallow, unmoving boy beside him.

Mike tells himself they'll all be ok, but he’s not so sure he can believe it.

Chapter Text

When the 22nd rolls around, Karen spends the morning once more in preparation mode. Thankfully, the rest of them were more or less off the hook until the afternoon.

“Hey do you have- oh my god,” Mike says. He had barged into his older sister's room, and was surprised by the mess he found there. Wrapping paper littered her bed, three different kinds, and she was hunched over stationary on her desk. “You alright? Looks like a hurricane hit in here, for your standards anyway.”

She shoots upwards, turning to stare at him, schooling her expression into something that could almost be neutral, if it wasn’t so tight.

“I’m fine,” she snaps, instinctively flattening her hair which is unusually frizzy, like she’d been pulling on it.

“Uhm, o-kay,” Mike responds. She doesn’t say anything back, and he lets the silence linger, hoping it’ll push her into sharing more than any words of his could.

“It’s nothing. Well, I guess- Yeah, it’s not important.” Another pause, and then, “I’m just gonna spit it out actually. I want this to be special for Jonathan, and I have no idea what I’m doing. You and Will-“ here, Mike’s breath hitches and he feels his heart beat like a prey animal in his chest, but then she goes on and he tries to focus on slowing his breathing, listening to her words. “You’ve been celebrating with him for a while, right? You seem like you know what you’re doing, and I guess I do too, it’s not hard but I don’t want it to be just good, I want it to be memorable. Special. You know?”

Mike was too shocked to say anything for a moment, still processing the fact that his sister, the independent Nancy Wheeler, was worried about Hanukkah. About anything really. And she was trusting him with this, like he knew what he was doing. They never did this, and when they did it was Mike coming to her for advice, for help. But now…

“I mean, I’ve never actually celebrated with him before,” he admits, shrugging. “But yeah, I guess I’ve gotten him gifts every year, same as I get Lucas and Dustin Christmas gifts,” he adds carefully, leaning against her doorframe. “It makes sense to be nervous, but it’s no different really. I’m assuming by making it special you do mean a gift, right?” At that his hand sweeps jerkily to her bed, to the mess of wrappers and something square in a cardboard box.

She nods, already relaxing, like the verbal tidal wave alone had relieved her of so much of the weight she carried. It wasn’t too surprising, she had always been one to bottle everything up, keeping her problems tight and close to her chest like a child with its favorite toy.

“Right,” Mike presses on, “and you’ve always been great at giving gifts. Remember when you got Jonathan that camera? Will said he wouldn’t shut up about it for weeks.”

Nancy blushes a pleased pink. “You’re right. I don’t know why I got in my head about it- it’s stupid,” she says.

“Not stupid,” and her brother really means it, remembering the rush of nerves he had going to Murray with his list, worried it’d be too much or not enough. “It’s normal. But it’ll be great, Nance, and everyone is coming for dinner too. Plus, you love the holiday anyway now. Don’t let it being the last day put some kind of pressure on you, okay?”

She laughs, standing up for a hug. “When did you get so old and wise?” she asks, a mix of exasperated and fond.

“Oh, well, y'know, I may have had a good influence or two growing up,” Mike confesses playfully, letting the holidays soften him into something sentimental. “Ted, obviously,” he pretends to clarify after a beat, and her laughter shakes him.

“Idiot,” she says grinning. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.” She’s already turned back to her desk, hunched over her card. Suddenly, she looks up again.

“Shit, sorry. Did you need anything? You came in for something, right?”

“Hm? Oh yeah, just tape.” She waves a hand to her bed, the gesture saying help yourself and so he did.

“By the way?” Mike adds, already halfway out the door once the tape is secured in his hands, “I think the green wrapping is the nicest for Jonathan.”

Nancy flashes him a small smile. “Thanks.”

Before Mike knows it, it's 4pm and Lucas and Dustin are ringing their doorbell, arriving early as instructed.

“Happy Hanukkah!!” They shout in unison, tackling Will and yanking Mike into the hug too.

“Hi,” Will chokes out, surprised, but he’s laughing. “Happy Holidays, guys.”

“How’s it beeeeen?” Dustin asks, peering into the living room and making a beeline for his spot on the couch, calling out a greeting to Mrs. Wheeler.

Lucas waved into the dining room where the adults had congregated, following his friend. They both collapse into soft cushions, a big bag dropping unceremoniously between them.

“What’s that?” Mike asks, already knowing the answer.

“A gift,” Lucas declares excitedly. “Can we give it to you now or do we have to wait? Dustin and I got it together.”

“Obviously we can give it to him now dipshit, the holiday’s been going on all week.”

“My bad for checking!” Lucas cries, and they’ve dropped into their age-old bickering, which Mike interrupts with a sigh.

“Guys! It doesn’t matter. Just decide when you wanna give it to him.”

Dustin just huffs, leaning back with crossed arms though his face lacks actual malice, but Lucas’ eyes narrow teasingly.

“Where’s your gift, then?”

Will sits up, smiling in a way that, if Mike didn’t know any better, he would say was holding a touch of pride, or even spite as he defends his boyfriend.

“He got me one on the first night, you guys are running late,” he teases back, pointing to an imaginary watch on his wrist.

“That’s right,” Mike says, leaning back like. Dustin had, playing along like he doesn’t have another gift waiting upstairs. He hadn’t really been able to get something for every night, but he had also figured Will might be uncomfortable with a lot of presents anyway, so he made sure to get really good gifts for the first and last days. “I’m just. Supremely better.”

“Right, sure,” Dustin dismisses him, holding out the bag. “Anyway, Happy Hanukkah. Open up.”

Will flashes a grateful smile at him and Lucas, and leans over to grab the bag. He pulls out a ton, and Mike means a ton of wrapping paper.

Lucas and Dustin exchange a glance and start howling.

“Oh I’m sorry-“ Lucas is wiping his eyes as he barks a laugh, causing some of the adults in the kitchen to look over, amused and slightly surprised. “We couldn’t resist,” he chokes out.

Dustin doesn’t even try to apologize, but he lifts his hand, urging Will to pull out the actual present beneath it all.

He is already laughing despite himself, but when he pulls out the bright blue ugly Hanukkah sweater, it’s over for him. Will is gasping for breath, tears streaming down his eyes like Lucas’. “You didn’t,” he gasps.

“Oh but we did,” Dustim croons, “No need to thank us.” It was blue, with a dark grey Stegosaurus that sported eight candles protruding from its back. In two rows, one above and one below it, are a bunch of stars of David. The top, in big block letters, reads “Menorasaurus.” It's hideous, and it's insanely perfect.

“That is- ridiculous,” Mike shouts through a laugh.

“For when our parents wrangle us into ugly Christmas sweaters,” Lucas explains, “Can’t have you weaseling out of it.”

“How… considerate. Really, you shouldn’t have,” Will lets out. Jonathan has wandered over, curious about the racket.

“Oh my god,” he says. “That is. Fantastic.”

“Never fear, there happened to be one in your size too,” Dustin grins up at him as his face falls.

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes,” their friend nods evilly while Lucas explains in a stage whisper that they had actually ordered the wrong size the first time, and ended up with two.

“Great,” Jonathan groans, but surprisingly he pulls it on immediately, dropping his dark blue cardigan on the couch beneath him. He raises a questioning eyebrow at Will.

“No fucking way,” he shakes his head adamantly, but by now his mother has seen it.

“Oh, you have to let me get a picture of the two of you in those,” she cries, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. Lucas’ face falls into a Oh you’re so fucked, oops expression, and Dustin’s face mimics it only a second later.

“Sorry,” they mouth, looking anything but.

Will just shakes his head, tugging it on regardless. Joyce took a few pictures, and despite his earlier protests, he kept the stupid sweater on once she had finished.

They all sit down at the table, Joyce and Jonathan leading the prayers like they had that first night, Mike proudly handling the candles. Dustin shoots him a look that falls somewhere between surprised and impressed. Lucas nods approvingly.

“Do we have to be quiet?” he whispers loudly, earning himself a slap from Dustin.

“No idiot, and if we did you would have messed it up anyway.”

“Oh my god-“ Lucas starts, but it’s Nancy who breaks them up this time.

“Just stop fighting and enjoy it, please,” she says exasperated. They know she’s not actually upset though, everyone in the room is all too used to the pair's antics.

“Whoops,” Dustin mutters. They all dig in, thanking Joyce and Karen profusely for the meal, and then someone pulls out a dreidel and they’re all gambling, being with gelt. This time it’s Nancy who wins almost each round ruthlessly, but she fives in and splits her chocolate with Holly regardless.

In hardly any time, the Byer’s mother is pulling out gifts for them, and Karen has something for all of them, too. Joyce’s eyes widen as she pulls a silver necklace from a small box, just a chain, nothing fancy, but it's so her, and Karen is insisting that it’s nothing really, the meat she could do after they welcomed them so warmly to their culture.

Nancy had gotten Jonathan a new set of headphones, noise cancelling ones, and Mike was right. Gift giving must have been a natural talent of hers, because he was grinning ear to ear, and squeezed her hand appreciatively at the sight of the present.

Overall, it was a wonderful night, and just like the Wheelers had hoped, it really did feel special.

It was even more special when, once everyone had left and the couple went up to their room, Mike produced his final gift.

“Mike,” Will breathed, “You already got me something.”

“Yeah, well, I should’ve had something for everyday, but…” he trails off, holding out the box. “Just open it and see.”

Will’s eyes hold something heavy as he nods, carefully unwrapping the box as if he’s going to keep the paper after.

It’s thin, and rectangular, and when he opens it a wooden plaque falls out, hand painted with a small city, and he knows a small scroll is laid inside it. It's a mezuzah, the mark of a Jewish home, and it’s similar to the one they used to have back in their old home at Hawkins.

Mike is bright red now, blushing like a tomato as he smiles shyly. “I thought… well I thought that we should have one when- for when we have a house. Together. One day, if you want to I mean, and-“

Will is speechless, touched beyond belief and Mike is still rambling, awkward and unsure and so earnest it hurts. He doesn’t know how to thank him, can’t think of a single word that can convey just how much it means to him, so instead of trying to say it, Will grabs his boyfriend gently, pulling him in for a deep kiss.

Mike’s eyes widen, blushing deeper if that’s even possible, and returns the kiss eagerly.

“It’s… it's beautiful, Mike. It’s perfect. Thank you,” he breathes when they pull away, and Mike is beaming.

“I’m so glad. Happy Hanukkah, Will,” he says, leaning in for another kiss.

They’ll share many holidays throughout the years, but this will forever be their favorite.