Chapter Text
The house is finally quiet.
Not peaceful quiet. The kind of quiet that happens after too much noise — like the walls are still recovering.
Will is… not recovering.
He’s wrapped around Mike like a human blanket, cheek pressed to Mike’s shoulder, arms loosely hooked around his middle. He looks half-asleep, half-lost, and completely unwilling to let go.
Mike shifts slightly. Will tightens.
“Will.”
A soft mumble. “No.”
“You’re crushing my ribs.”
“You have more.”
Mike snorts despite himself. “That’s not how ribs work.”
Will hums like that information is irrelevant and settles deeper, forehead resting against Mike’s collarbone. His eyes are heavy, movements slow, thoughts clearly running on fumes.
He starts tracing tiny circles on Mike’s arm.
Then his fingers pause.
“…You have freckles here,” Will whispers.
“I know.”
Will lifts his head just enough to see better. He squints, serious in the way only extremely tired people can be.
“I’m counting them.”
Mike blinks. “You are not.”
“I am.”
He pokes one gently. “One.”
Mike sighs but doesn’t move away.
Will shifts closer, nose nearly brushing Mike’s cheek as he studies him with intense concentration.
“Two… three… wait… that might be a cluster…”
Mike’s voice softens. “You need sleep.”
Will ignores that completely. He traces along Mike’s cheekbone, slow and careful.
“Four… five… you moved.”
“I breathed.”
“Unacceptable.”
Mike huffs a laugh. Will blinks slowly, then rests his forehead against Mike’s again, eyes slipping shut.
There’s a long pause.
Will mumbles, voice warm and fuzzy with exhaustion, “You’re my husband.”
Silence.
Mike freezes.
Will’s eyes widen just a little like the word surprised even him. He stays very still. Mike stays very still.
A long, quiet moment passes between them.
Then Mike’s hand comes up, gentle, resting against the back of Will’s head.
“…Yeah,” Mike says softly. “I am.”
Will smiles — small, sleepy, relieved — and nuzzles back into him.
—
Across town, chaos is happening.
Robin is not supposed to touch anything at the radio station at, least not yet.
Nancy told her that very clearly.
Robin touched everything.
“And this one adjusts the—” Robin twists a knob.
A red light flicks on.
Nancy freezes. “Robin.”
Robin freezes. “Nancy.”
A voice echoes through the room speakers.
“You’re live.”
They stare at each other in horror.
Robin leans toward the microphone slowly. “…Hi.”
Nancy lunges forward, trying to find a switch. “Don’t say anything weird.”
Robin immediately says something weird.
“Hello listeners, this is an emergency broadcast to inform you that Nancy Wheeler is extremely beautiful and also threatening me with her eyes right now—”
Nancy clamps a hand over Robin’s mouth. “We are not broadcasting that!”
Robin pulls her hand away, whispering loudly, “We ARE broadcasting that.”
They both stare at the glowing red light.
Nancy exhales, flustered, cheeks pink. “Just… just end it.”
Robin looks at her, softer now.
“…Hi,” she says into the mic again, quieter. “Sorry this a test .”
Nancy covers her face. Robin grins helplessly.
The broadcast cuts off mid-laugh.
—
Back at the house, Will is fully asleep.
Still holding onto Mike’s shirt.
Mike watches him for a moment, then carefully adjusts so Will is more comfortable. He brushes a piece of hair away from Will’s face.
“…You counted wrong,” Mike whispers.
Will, half-asleep, mumbles, “Start again tomorrow.”
Mike smiles and rests his cheek lightly against Will’s head.
And this time, neither of them moves.
The next day they play dnd “Okay,” Dustin says, squinting at his notes like they personally offended him, “you enter a cavern guarded by a shadow beast with glowing red eyes and—”
Mike raises a hand. “I befriend it.”
Lucas snorts. “You what.”
“I befriend it,” Mike repeats, completely serious.
Dustin looks to Will. “He cannot befriend it. It eats souls.”
Will, who is sitting beside Mike with their knees touching under the table, considers this carefully.
“…It hesitates,” Will says. “Because it senses Mike’s… heroic-ness.”
Max slaps the table. “NO. BIAS. I CALL BIAS.”
El nods solemnly. “This is favoritism.”
Mike tries very hard not to smile. Fails immediately.
Dustin flips a page aggressively. “Fine. Roll for persuasion.”
Mike rolls. It’s terrible.
Dustin grins. “Ha. Failure. The beast attacks.”
Will leans forward. “Actually… the beast is emotionally moved by Mike’s attempt.”
Lucas stares at him. “By what attempt? He rolled a one.”
Will shrugs. “It was a very sincere one.”
Max collapses back in her chair laughing. “Oh my god, Will.”
Mike whispers, “You’re the best Dungeon Master ever.”
Dustin points accusingly. “This is corruption of the highest order.”
El raises her hand. “I also want a friendly monster.”
“No,” Dustin says immediately.
Will clears his throat, trying to look neutral and failing. “The beast… kneels before Mike.”
The table erupts.
Lucas: “ABSOLUTELY NOT.”
Max: “He’s literally the chosen one now.”
Dustin: “I spent three hours designing that monster!”
El, softly: “Does it have a name?”
Mike beams like he’s been handed the keys to the universe. “I name him… Sir Growls-a-Lot.”
Will nods seriously and writes it down.
Dustin drops his pencil. “I quit. Campaign over. Friendship over.”
Mike reaches under the table and squeezes Will’s hand. “Worth it.”
Will squeezes back, trying not to laugh. “The party may proceed with their loyal companion.”
Lucas leans toward Max. “We’re being emotionally outnumbered.”
Max grins. “Next session, I’m bribing the DM.”
Dustin sighs dramatically and gathers his papers. “Fine. But next dungeon? No mercy.”
Will glances at Mike.
Mike grins.
The entire group groans in unison.
And somewhere in the margins of Will’s notebook, next to a very serious map, he’s drawn a tiny crown over Mike’s character sheet.
*
*
Nancy’s room is warm and quiet, the door shut against the noise downstairs.
Robin sits on the edge of the bed with her trumpet in her lap, turning it in her hands like she’s working up courage.
“You don’t have to,” Nancy says softly from her desk.
“I want to,” Robin replies. “Just… don’t laugh if I mess up.”
“I won’t.”
Robin lifts the trumpet and plays something small and careful — not loud, not showy. Just a simple melody, a little wobbly at first, then steadier. The sound fills the room in a soft, golden way that makes everything feel closer.
Nancy watches her the whole time.
When Robin lowers the trumpet, she looks shy. “Okay. That was—”
“It was beautiful,” Nancy says immediately.
Robin blinks. “Yeah?”
Nancy nods. “Yeah.”
She reaches into her desk drawer and pulls out embroidery thread and tiny beads. “I made something for you.”
Robin scoots closer on the bed as Nancy ties a thin bracelet around her wrist — baby pink and dark blue threads twisted together, a tiny bead at the center.
“It matches yours,” Nancy explains, holding up her own wrist.
Robin turns her arm, studying it like it’s something fragile. “You made this?”
Nancy shrugs, a little embarrassed. “I wanted us to have something the same.”
Robin’s voice softens. “I love it.”
They sit shoulder to shoulder after that, a movie playing quietly on Nancy’s TV. Halfway through, Robin leans sideways until her head rests against Nancy’s arm. Nancy doesn’t move it away.
The house feels calm.
Then—
CRASH.
Both of them bolt upright.
“What was that?” Robin whispers.
“Downstairs,” Nancy says, already standing.
They run out together, feet pounding down the steps.
In the living room, Mike is on the floor, half-curled and half-laughing, one hand over his face.
Will kneels beside him, panicked. “Stop laughing, you fell!”
“I’m fine,” Mike wheezes, still giggling. “The chair attacked me.”
“There was no attack,” Lucas says from the couch.
Max crosses her arms. “You tripped over nothing.”
Robin kneels on Mike’s other side. “Are you actually hurt?”
Mike winces a little, then shrugs. “Only my dignity.”
Will exhales, shoulders dropping in relief. “You scared me.”
Mike looks up at him, smile softer now. “Sorry.”
Nancy stands behind them, hand resting lightly on Robin’s shoulder.
Robin squeezes Nancy’s fingers without looking back.
Mike groans as Will helps him sit up. “Okay… maybe a little hurt.”
Max snorts. “Heroic.”
The chaos resumes — teasing, checking for real injuries, everyone talking at once.
Nancy leans slightly toward Robin and murmurs, “Good thing we came down.”
Robin glances at their matching bracelet and smiles. “Yeah.”
They stay close while the noise swirls around them — steady, quiet, and together.
The room is buzzing with chaos as everyone scrambles. Mike’s laughter has slowed, replaced with a faint grimace as he rubs his side. Will helps him to his feet, keeping his arm around him like a shield.
“Okay,” Will says firmly, voice tense but calm, “we’re going to the hospital. You’re not staying here like this.”
Mike protests weakly. “I’m fine… really…”
“Yeah, yeah, but just in case,” Will cuts him off, already moving toward the car. Robin and Nancy trail behind, moving quickly to help with bags and coats. Max and Lucas are juggling calm reassurance with panicked questions.
OKAY EVERYONE IN THE CAR" Nancy yells
The drive there is short and quite it's odd while I mean they have been through stranger things.
Once everyone piles into the car — Mike sandwiched between Will and Lucas, Robin in the passenger seat with Nancy beside her — the ride is a mix of bickering and frantic chatter. Mike winces occasionally, making Will hover closer, hands ready to steady him at any sign of pain.
Nancy leans toward Robin, whispering, “We should have stayed in the room.”
Robin smirks despite the tension. “Yeah, but now we get to play nurse sidekick.”
Mike groans. “Stop laughing, you guys…”
“Can’t help it,” Will mutters, a small, tight smile, holding Mike close, thumb brushing his arm. “You make it hard to stay serious.”
By the time they pull up to the hospital, the energy has shifted. The chaos of the house is replaced with the bright, sterile buzz of the ER lights. Nurses rush out to greet them, and Will guides Mike carefully onto a wheelchair, never letting go of his hand.
Robin stays by Nancy’s side, both of them watching the process with bated breath, ready to step in if Mike needs anything. Even amidst the panic, their hands brush, sharing a quiet, grounding connection.
Mike sighs, leaning slightly into Will. “Guess I really did it this time.”
Will presses a soft kiss to his forehead. “You’re okay. We’ve got you.”
And for a moment, amidst the chaos, Mike feels a little safe, wrapped in Will’s arms and surrounded by their chaotic, loving group.
Mike sits on the hospital bed, his legs dangling slightly off the edge. Will is perched on the chair beside him, holding Mike’s hand like it’s the only thing keeping the world steady. His hair is a little mussed from the fall, and his side is wrapped in a soft bandage, but otherwise he’s fine—though he won’t admit just how much the crash shook him.
“You’re really dramatic, you know that?” Mike mutters, wincing a little as he shifts.
“I’m… concerned,” Will replies, tone teasing but eyes soft. “Very concerned.” He leans in, brushing a stray hair from Mike’s forehead. “And also, your laugh… almost made me fall over when you hit the floor.”
Mike groans, burying his face in his hands. “I can’t believe I did that.”
“You fell. That’s it. You’re fine. I’m not mad.” Will squeezes his hand, giving him a reassuring smile.
The door creaks open, and Robin peeks in, followed by Nancy. Robin carries a small backpack with snacks, and Nancy has a water bottle and a notebook.
“Thought you might need some backup,” Nancy says, her voice calm but protective. She sets the water on the bedside table and glances at Mike. “Seriously, Mike, you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Mike says, but his shoulders slump. “Just… embarrassed.”
Robin kneels beside Nancy, leaning close. “Embarassed? You’re hilarious. And now you get to sit in a hospital bed with Will fussing over you. Mike.”
Mike groans but can’t hide a small smile. Will nudges him playfully. “See? You’re still charming even while hurt.”
Nancy glances at Robin, then back to Mike. “I’ll stay here and make sure he doesn’t try to sneak out of the bed. Robin can keep an eye on the door.”
“Sounds perfect,” Will says, pressing a soft kiss to Mike’s temple. Mike leans into it, feeling warmth spread despite the lingering ache in his side.
Robin pulls a small sketchbook from her bag. “I brought something to distract us,” she says. She starts sketching quietly, glancing at Nancy every so often. Nancy, in turn, threads a delicate bracelet onto Robin’s wrist—a tiny, subtle gesture that makes Robin’s cheeks pink.
Mike watches them, then leans against Will. “You know, I think chaos might be my favorite thing,” he mutters.
Will chuckles softly. “Yeah… especially when it comes with a side of you.” He presses another kiss to Mike’s forehead.
The room falls into a comfortable quiet, punctuated by the soft sounds of hospital machines, the scribble of Robin’s pencil, and the occasional whispered joke from Nancy and Robin. For Mike, it’s not perfect—but it’s safe, warm, and full of love.
The hospital room is too bright, too loud, too full of people pretending everything is normal.
Mike sits on the bed with his freshly wrapped cast resting on a pillow. Will stays close beside him, shoulder touching, their hands loosely linked where no one’s really looking.
A nurse steps in, scanning a clipboard.
“Who here is Michael James Byers-Wheeler?”
Everything inside Mike freezes.
His fingers go stiff in Will’s hand. His shoulders lock. The room suddenly feels smaller, like the air forgot how to move. He stares at the floor, breathing shallow, trying very hard to look fine.
No one notices.
Because—
Dustin spins around so fast he nearly drops his notebook. “EXCUSE ME?”
Max straightens. “Wait. That’s real?”
Lucas squints at Mike like he’s a puzzle. “That’s… a full situation.”
Robin whispers loudly, “Nancy may I pretty please say a swear word ?.”
Nancy pinches the bridge of her nose, already tired.
Mike manages a tiny nod without looking up. The nurse smiles kindly, checks something on the chart, and leaves with a quick, “We’ll get discharge papers started.”
The door clicks shut.
And then the room explodes.
Dustin points. “You can’t just casually have a hyphenated identity!”
Max grins. “and the dumbass of the year award goes to Michael James Byers -wheeler.”
Lucas folds his arms. “So what does that make Will?”
Will, who has been staring at Mike’s too-still posture, finally looks up — blinking like he’s just realized everyone is talking.
"Uhh Will byers -wheeler and
You guys think I honestly would be Will Wheeler?!”
Beat.
Max collapses onto the chair laughing. Lucas wheezes. Dustin throws both hands in the air like he’s been proven right about something enormous.
Mike lets out a shaky breath that turns into a weak, embarrassed laugh, tension easing just a little as Will squeezes his hand once.
Dustin claps sharply. “Okay! New topic! The cast!”
He pulls a marker from nowhere. Max already has three. Lucas produces one from behind his ear like a magician.
“Hold still,” Max orders, grabbing Mike’s arm gently.
Mike groans. “This is going to be terrible, isn’t it?”
“Absolutely,” Lucas says.
Will shifts closer, steadying Mike’s arm while everyone crowds in.
Max draws a tiny lightning bolt.
Lucas writes my girlfriend says this guys fucking stupid , she might be right.
Dustin sketches something that might be a monster but insists is “symbolic.”
Robin adds a small trumpet.
Nancy writes neatly near the wrist: Heal fast.
El adds You know I hate to say, but, "I told you so"
Will hesitates the longest.
Then he writes something small near Mike’s thumb, careful and close. Mike tilts his head to read it and smiles — soft, real this time.
“Okay,” Mike says, lifting the cast like a trophy. “why am I getting called a idiot.”
“Group medical art project,” Robin announces.
“Historical artifact,” Dustin corrects.
Will leans his shoulder gently against Mike’s. “You survived.”
Mike bumps him back. “Barely.”
They keep bickering quietly while the others argue about who signed best, the room finally warm and noisy in a good way. The
The Wheeler house is loud in that specific, harmless way it gets when nothing bad is happening.
Holly is the one who starts it.
She stands in the hallway, hands on her hips, staring at Will like she’s planning something dangerous. “You’re gonna be in our fashion show.”
Will blinks. “I’m… what?”
Nancy looks up from the couch, already smiling. Robin freezes mid-sip of her drink, eyes lighting up immediately. “Oh. Oh I love this.”
Mike, from the stairs, frowns. “What fashion show?”
“Too late,” Robin says cheerfully. “He’s already cast.”
Will opens his mouth to protest, but Holly grabs his hand with surprising strength. “Come on! Nancy has makeup.”
“Nancy has what?” Will asks, alarmed.
Nancy stands, totally unashamed. “I do. And you’re going to look incredible.”
Mike points between them. “I feel like I should be worried.”
“You should,” Robin replies.
—
Ten minutes later, Will is sitting on the edge of Nancy’s bed like he’s awaiting judgment.
Robin is way too focused, carefully applying makeup like this is a sacred ritual. Nancy holds up outfits one by one while Holly critiques everything with the seriousness of a professional.
“No, that one’s boring.”
“That one’s cute!”
“He needs the jacket.”
Will dares a glance at the mirror and immediately regrets it.
His eyes are lined. His cheeks are warm. And then Robin caps the lipstick and grins.
“Trust me,” she says. “Red.”
Will’s voice cracks. “Red?”
Nancy nods. “Absolutely red.”
Mike, hovering awkwardly in the doorway, swallows. “Uh. Wow.”
Will looks at him. “Is that a good ‘wow’ or a ‘we’ve ruined everything’ wow?”
Mike’s ears go pink. “Definitely a good wow.”
Robin finishes and spins Will gently toward the mirror.
He freezes.
The lipstick is bold. Bright. Completely not subtle. And somehow… it works.
Holly claps. “He’s beautiful!”
Will laughs, flustered. “I can’t go downstairs like this.”
“You absolutely can,” robin says. “Runway. Now.”
—
The “runway” is the living room rug.
Holly announces each look dramatically while Nancy plays music too loud and Robin whistles like she’s at a concert.
Will walks. Trips a little. Laughs. Spins once because Robin tells him to.
By the time it’s over, his face hurts from smiling.
Later, when the chaos dies down and Holly is distracted with snacks, Will ends up in the hallway with Mike.
Mike looks at him, softer now. Quiet.
“You okay?” Mike asks.
Will nods. “Yeah. I kinda… liked it.”
Mike smiles. He steps closer without thinking. “You look really good.”
Will tilts his head. “You keep saying that.”
Mike leans in and kisses him.
It’s gentle at first — then a little deeper, a little longer. Will laughs quietly into it, one hand curling into Mike’s shirt.
When they pull apart, neither of them notices where Will’s lipstick ended up.
—
Dinner is normal. Suspiciously normal.
Everyone’s seated. Plates clink. Someone passes the salt.
Then Karen pauses mid-bite.
She squints.
“Mike,” she says slowly "are you feeling okay? Your lips are red and your neck,what is that-”
Silence.
Mike freezes.
Holly leans over the table, gasps dramatically. “ Holy s-wow I knew it!”
Robin chokes on her drink, wheezing with laughter.
Will’s face goes nuclear. “I— it was the fashion show—”
Mike instinctively reaches up, touches his neck, and immediately makes it worse. “Oh. Oh wow. That’s… very visible.”
Nancy raises an eyebrow, amused. “Is that my lipstick?”
Robin is absolutely losing it. “No nance it's your lipstick that your brothers husband was wearing.”
Holly grins. “You should keep it.”
Mike glances at Will, who’s half-mortified, half-smiling.
He shrugs. “whatever you want holly - dolly.”
Will ducks his head, smiling into his plate.
The Wheelers exchange looks — teasing, fond, completely unsurprised.
Dinner continue s
And no one makes Mike wash it off:
It’s late enough that the house has settled into that soft, creaky quiet.
Mike and Will are in Mike’s room, lights off, just the faint glow from the hall slipping under the door.
They’re lying on their sides facing each other, close but not touching yet. Mike’s cast rests between them like an awkward third presence.
“You’re not sleeping,” Mike whispers.
“Neither are you.”
A beat.
Mike swallows, then blurts softly, “Back then… when you were… you know. Quiet. I knew something was there. I just didn’t know what to do with it.”
Will watches him carefully. “I didn’t want to make it your responsibility.”
“It wasn’t,” Mike says quickly. Then softer, “I just didn’t understand what I was feeling either.”
Will exhales slowly. “I was… hoping. A lot.”
Mike nods. “I know now.”
Silence settles between them, warm and heavy.
“I loved you,” Mike says, voice barely above a breath. “I just didn’t know how to say it. Or what it meant yet.”
Will’s expression softens in a way that makes Mike’s chest ache in the best possible way.
“I thought I was the only one,” Will admits.
“You weren’t,” Mike says. “I just needed time to catch up.”
Will shifts a little closer, their knees brushing under the blanket. Neither of them pulls away.
“Thank you for staying,” Will murmurs.
Mike smiles faintly. “There was nowhere else I wanted to be.”
Their hands meet in the space between them — tentative at first, then certain. Fingers lace together like they’ve practiced.
Mike leans in slowly, giving Will time to move away if he wants.
He doesn’t.
Their foreheads touch. Warm breath mingles. Then a soft kiss — gentle, unhurried.
It lingers.
They pull back just enough to look at each other, both smiling in that quiet, surprised way.
Will nudges closer, and this time when they kiss again it’s deeper — still soft, still careful, but full of that long-held closeness finally allowed to exist. Hands slide to shoulders, then settle, holding without rushing anything.
It’s not messy or frantic. Just warm and certain and a little breathless.
When they part, they don’t go far.
Will curls closer, tucking into Mike’s side, careful of the cast. Mike wraps his arm around him automatically, pressing a small, sleepy kiss into Will’s hair.
“Still here,” Mike murmurs.
Will hums softly. “Always.”
Their breathing evens out together.
The room stays quiet.
They fall asleep tangled together, hands still linked, like they never learned how to let go.
The clinic smells like disinfectant and paper.
Mike sits on the exam table, staring at his cast like it personally betrayed him. Will stands close enough that their shoulders keep brushing whenever either of them shifts.
“Ready?” the nurse asks.
Mike nods bravely.
He is not brave.
The cast comes off in careful pieces. The pressure disappears first. Then the weight. Then suddenly his arm just… exists again. Lighter. Bare. A little stiff.
Mike flexes his fingers slowly, like he’s testing whether they still belong to him.
Will watches the whole time, eyes soft and focused like this is the most important moment in the world.
“How’s it feel?” Will asks quietly.
Mike rotates his wrist. Grimaces. Then smiles. “Weird. But… good weird.”
Will’s relief is immediate and obvious. He exhales like he’s been holding that breath for weeks.
Mike notices. He bumps Will gently with his shoulder. “You worried?”
“Maybe a little.”
Mike flexes his hand again, then reaches out — tentative at first — and takes Will’s hand properly for the first time since the fall. No cast in the way. No awkward angle.
Just fingers fitting together easily.
Will squeezes once, a small smile breaking through. “There you are.”
waiting like it’s a celebration.
Max squints at Mike’s wrist. “Show us the recovered limb.”
Lucas nods seriously. “We must confirm functionality.”
Dustin circles him like a scientist. “Move your fingers. Faster. Fascinating.”
Robin pretends to wipe a tear. “He’s free.”
Nancy smiles warmly from the doorway. “Welcome back to full chaos.”
Mike rolls his eyes but can’t stop grinning.
He wiggles his fingers dramatically. “Behold. I am healed.”
Will, standing close at his side, nudges him softly. “Careful. Don’t overdo it.”
“I won’t,” Mike says — then immediately uses his newly freed hand to tug Will closer by the sleeve.
Will stumbles half a step into him, laughing quietly.
“Testing grip strength,” Mike explains.
“Very scientific,” Will replies.
—
Later that evening, the house settles again into a softer kind of quiet.
They’re in Mike’s room, sitting on the floor with a sketchbook between them. Mike draws a slightly crooked apple. Will leans in, pointing gently.
“Shade here,” Will says. “And add a shine spot.”
Mike follows the suggestion carefully. “Like this?”
Will nods, pleased. “Exactly.”
Their shoulders touch the whole time.
After a while, Mike sets the pencil down and flexes his hand again, slower this time.
“Still hurts?” Will asks.
“A little,” Mike admits. “But it’s okay.”
Will shifts closer without thinking, resting lightly against him.
Mike tilts his head until it rests against Will’s. Quiet. Easy.
“Thanks for staying,” Mike murmurs.
Will smiles softly. “Always.”
Mike turns just enough to press a small, gentle kiss to Will’s temple — warm, unhurried, familiar.
Will leans into it, eyes closing for a moment.
They end up curled side by side on the floor, sketchbook forgotten, hands loosely linked — Mike’s newly freed fingers tracing idle patterns on the back of Will’s hand like he’s making up for lost time.
The room is calm.
And everything feels light again.
La
rThe burger place is louder than it looks from outside — neon humming, plates clinking, someone laughing way too hard at a joke nobody else heard.
Holly claims the booth like a queen. “Will here. Mike there. I sit in the middle so nobody argues.”
“We weren’t going to argue,” Mike says.
Holly just gives him a look that says sure.
Will slides in beside her, smiling, and Mike squeezes in on Will’s other side, knees bumping immediately. Across from them, Robin drops into the seat next to Nancy and immediately reaches for a fry that doesn’t exist yet.
Nancy raises an eyebrow. “You’re stealing imaginary food now?”
“Pre-fries,” Robin says, very serious.
Ordering is chaos. Holly wants extra whipped cream. Mike says he’ll get something different from Will and then accidentally orders the same thing. Robin adds something random to Nancy’s order “for balance.” Nancy fixes it without comment.
While they wait, Holly swings her legs and studies everyone like a tiny detective.
“You guys look happier after the wedding,” she announces.
Mike chokes on nothing. Will ducks his head. Robin grins into her hands. Nancy just smiles softly and asks Holly about school.
Food arrives. Holly immediately reorganizes the fries by length. Mike pretends to protest when she steals two. Will slides another fry onto Mike’s tray without a word.
Across the table, Robin and Nancy share a milkshake because “the straws are already there.” Their shoulders keep brushing. Neither moves away.
Halfway through the meal, Holly suddenly stands. “Bathroom break. Nobody leave.”
She marches off with purpose.
The table goes quieter in her absence, like the air softened.
Mike leans closer to Will to show him something dumb on a napkin. Their heads nearly touch. Will’s smile is small and warm.
Across from them, Robin is mid-story, hands moving as she talks. Nancy watches her more than she listens — fond, focused, soft.
Robin pauses when she realizes. “What?”
Nancy just shakes her head slightly, eyes gentle. “Nothing.”
There’s a tiny moment where everything feels still.
Nancy leans in and presses a very quick, light kiss into Robin’s hair near her temple — so brief it’s almost just a brush of breath.
Robin freezes, then exhales, smiling in a quiet, surprised way.
Neither of them notices Holly returning down the aisle.
Holly slows when she sees them. She doesn’t say anything — just watches, curious, thoughtful — then continues walking like nothing happened.
She climbs back into the booth and immediately resumes referee mode. “Okay. Continue.”
Robin is still a little pink. Nancy calmly hands Holly a fry.
Mike glances between them, confused but smiling anyway. Will nudges his shoulder gently under the table.
They finish eating with overlapping conversations and small laughs. Outside, the night air is cool and a little breezy.
Holly grabs Will’s hand and then Robin’s, swinging between them as they walk. Mike stays close to Will’s other side. Nancy walks beside Robin, their steps naturally in sync.
After a minute, Holly looks up at Nancy.
“I like when everyone’s happy,” she says simply.
Nancy squeezes Robin’s hand once, quick