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El had been thinking about kisses for a long time before she had the chance to learn exactly what the word was or what the act really meant.
She would be alone in the woods, those cold days before she had let Hopper find her, and her thoughts would wander to the soft press of Mike’s lips to her own. It had been fast, unexpected, in between awkward conversations and discussions about putins (or was it pudding?). It had also been the first time anyone had done anything like that to her. It had felt good, like most of the things that boy did had made her feel. The embarrassed little smile he had given her before the world crumbled on them still caused a strange discomfort in her belly. Strange, but not at all unpleasant. It had warmed her through that winter month.
Or it would be the first night she had spent in the cabin, still wary of Hopper and unsure of the future. He had tucked her into bed with as many blankets he could find, the fire roaring in a corner of the main room, heating everything up and just slightly concealing the smell of humidity.
“It will be okay, kid. No one will find you here” he’d repeated, mostly to himself, as he’d arranged the blankets a bit tighter around her.
“Promise?” it had only been the second thing she had spoken to him at all. He’d seemed surprised.
“Yeah… yeah, I promise” he’d breathed out after a moment of hesitation.
And Jim Hopper had leaned in, kissing El’s forehead.
“Why did you do that?” she had asked, because she’d immediately remembered Mike and his soft lips, but this felt entirely different.
Hopper had looked at her, an odd expression on his face, and El was not sure if he had understood what she was asking about.
“Because I care, kid. That’s why”.
That answer had been good enough for so many questions.
He had caressed her head “Sleep now. We can see what to do about putting real food in that fridge tomorrow”.
When given the dictionary, it had been one of the first words El had looked up.
Kiss (/kɪs/): to touch with the lips or press the lips against as an expression of love, passion, affection, respect, etc.
The definition had not felt thorough enough for her. It had fallen into the same category of words such as “freedom”, “yearning”, “tenderness”, “love”: words she could not fully comprehend based on what was written in the dictionary.
TV was also not helpful. It was fun to watch, of course, but the characters on the screen just kissed each other aimlessly every other episode of the shows she watched, not transmitting any real feeling. It’d felt… empty. She remembered the warmth inside her when Mike had kissed her. Or the prickling behind her eyes when Hopper had done it. It had just made her feel more confused.
Christmas Eve is when she has the chance to ask again about the subject.
El is in the kitchen of the Byers’ house, helping Joyce bake cookies. Hopper would not be back from the station until later and she had overheard Joyce arguing with him how unacceptable it was to leave her alone in the cabin “On Christmas Eve, of all evenings!”.
So, early afternoon finds them in the kitchen, bent over an old cookbook Joyce had gotten as a wedding gift and never used. Music could be heard from Jonathan’s room, and Will had just cleared the kitchen table of his drawings so they could shape the cookies, adding as many toppings as El wanted.
The memories from the Snow Ball are still quite fresh on her memory. Mike’s kiss had again been unexpected, but this time it’d brought an explosion inside her El could hardly begin to describe.
“Happy thoughts?” Joyce asks, a lopsided grin playing on her face, while placing chocolate chips on top of the round cookies.
She was herself smiling, she notices, and was caught on the act. El bits her lips, looking around the kitchen. No one in sight.
“Joyce…” she wants to make sure she has the other woman’s full attention. “Why do people… kiss?”.
Joyce was not expecting it, El can tell.
Her mouth opens and closes several times before any sound cames out.
“Why… people kiss to show… to show how much they… care… they care about each other”.
El lets out a frustrated sight. She knew that. It was the definition from a book kind of answer and not at all what she was looking for.
What she wanted to understand was why there were different kinds of kisses, and why they made her feel different as well. Was it okay for her to kiss someone? Anyone? How was she supposed to know when to do it? To whom? And how?
“Husbands and wives?” Boyfriends and girlfriends?
“Yes, but not only… Parents kiss their children” and El is immediately reminded of Hopper. “I kiss my boys all the time. Well, not Jonathan… Not that much anymore, but I used to”.
“Is it different than husbands and wives?” to which Joyce promptly agrees. “How different?”.
Joyce takes a deep breath.
“It’s different because they are different kinds of love, I guess. Parents love their children in a way that would make them do anything for them. Anything at all. It’s a selfless kind of love”.
“Selfless?” El interrupts. She does not know that word yet.
“Yes… it means when you care more about the other people around you than about yourself, you don’t expect anything in return” there is a different softness in her voice when she continues “Like when you put yourself between the boys and that creature last year?” El’s eyes lower to the forgotten cookies. “When you risked everything again to close that gate and save us all? That’s what being selfless is”.
Her eyes are still downcast when Joyce continues.
“As for the kisses, I think, that’s kind of the message parents are trying to send. That they would do anything for their children”.
El absorbs the answer for a moment. She thinks so much about Hopper it hurts, the prickling back in her eyes.
“A kiss… on the forehead?”
“Yes… or on the cheeks. Siblings can do it. Even friends, if they are really close”.
She thinks about Dustin and Lucas sharing a kiss and it makes her grin.
Joyce goes back to the cookies, pouring green icing on the triangular ones to make them look like trees. Maybe she had forgotten about the other kind of kiss, but El has not.
“And…” she starts again, her voice lower this time “on the lips?”.
Joyce smiles, but doesn’t really look at her, continuing with the frosting.
“Well… that is a very special kiss” El hangs onto her every word “only people with a very special connection share this kind” she quickly looks at her before going back to the cookies.
El’s chair moves a tad bit closer to Joyce’s. The older woman grins again.
“What I think you are asking me is what does it mean, right?” El nods vigorously. “Thought so… I guess, what you must understand is that this kiss means a different sort of caring… of love. It’s a bit of the opposite than the other one, I think. It’s selfish, because you want the person you kiss to be with you… always. You would do anything for them, yes, but it’s different. You want them to love you as much as you love them, and it just pours out of you, and you want to be the closest as possible to the other person. And there is no better way to do it then through this kind of kiss”.
By the time Joyce finishes, El is staring frozen at her. There is a sadness in her eyes she quickly dismisses.
“Oh, I’m just blabbering!” she says, waving a hand. “Shouldn’t listen to these nonsenses I say”.
But El is grateful. So, so grateful. She understands, now. She smiles and puts a hand on Joyce’s arm.
“Thank you”.
“Sweetie, oh…” she gently touches El’s cheeks and chin. “Let’s get these ones in the oven and pray they taste as good as they look, shall we?”.
When the first round of cookies is done, Will comes to the kitchen, sitting next to El.
“Hum, these are really good” he compliments after stealing one, with a full mouth.
“Yeah, we should thank El. She did most of the work” Joyce says as she puts another tray of cookies in the oven.
Will looks at her, big smile on his face and some hidden knowledge in his blue-green eyes, before leaning close and giving El a quick kiss on the cheek.
“Thank you, El”.
***
They were not supposed to all converge to the Byers’ household on Christmas Eve, but, as they often did these days, there they were. Mike wondered if they had somehow absorbed some of the hive-mind connection the creatures of the Upside Down seemed to share, creating their own. They were pulled together like magnets, all of them, gathering around each other as if in a pack, not completely functional unless together.
He and Nancy had been the firsts to arrive, coming right after dinner was done at the Wheeler’s. He was hoping to have some time alone with El. He had something to give to her, for her eyes only.
“El” Mike says, taking her hands after a quick greeting to Mrs. Byers.
“Mike” she grasps his hands and smiles. He is still getting used to see her smile to him so untroubled. Hell, he is still getting used to everything about her. Her new height, the intensity of her gaze – the first thing about her to daze him –, the weight of her hand in his, her hair, dammit, all curly and-
“Wheeler”.
Hopper is standing by the kitchen door, leaning to the side, cigarette in hand and looking as murderous as one would if Mike was some sort of serial killer.
“Chief” he greets, letting go of her hands after realizing he had been staring at El. She just smiles.
The awkwardness is further avoided by the bell ringing, and Dustin entering the room.
“Fear not, fear not” he says to no one in particular the moment he is in the living room. “I’ve brought the best Christmas candy ever” he reaches inside his backpack and takes away two boxes “Candy canes!”.
Max and Steve are next, with the boy honking his horn the moment he stopped by the driveway. It becomes obvious he had been the one to pick Max up on her further away house.
“Merry Christmas Mrs. Byers, hope you don’t mind me coming. The kids… kind of… insisted” he looks embarrassed for a moment, eying Nancy and Jonathan further into the kitchen as he hands Mrs Byers a bottle of what Mike suspects is eggnog.
“Nonsense! C’mon in, now” she says. Jonathan smiles truly, moving a tray of food to the kitchen sink, and Nancy just shakes her head, a timid smile hidden behind her hair.
Hopper puts a hand on Steve’s shoulder before saying “Bless you, kid, for that bottle”.
Mike expects it to be awkward, the whole gathering. But in the end, is anything but.
El sits between Max and Will by the Christmas tree, sucking on the candy canes Dustin just brought. Mike sees Max slip hers into El’s hand while she thinks no one is watching, both exchanging secretive smiles: Max doesn’t have a sweet tooth but, even if it took a long time for Mike to notice, she has a good heart. She would rather stuff herself with candy she does not like than deny Dustin the pleasure of serving them. El just gives her an easy way out.
Lucas comes in a bit later, complaining something about his sister no one really gets. He promptly joins them on the ground, taking out Rubik’s cubes from his bag and challenging whoever is up to a competition, as if that had been the plan all along.
Jonathan is showing records to both Hopper and Steve by the dining table, while Mrs Byers and Nancy both drink from a cup of tea over the table that is still filled with leftover diner. It is lighthearted and normal. Ordinary, even.
It makes Mike smile.
He looks at El, sitting in front of him, and she stares right back at him, as if pulled. Noticing the distraction of everyone else, Mike motions discreetly with his head to the hallway. He quickly looks around, to see if anyone notices, but they are all distracted with the Rubik’s cube competition, speaking on top of each other. No one notices the both of them leaving.
Mike grabs his backpack on the way, leading El to the end of the hallway, where the noise from the living room almost doesn’t reach them.
“I’ve got you something” he says, kneeling on the carpet. She follows suit. “It’s a Christmas present”.
“But it’s not Christmas yet” she retorts “Hopper said I can only have my gifts in the morning”.
“Yeah, that it’s true” he starts, mischief in his tone “We could wait until tomorrow, of course, if you really want to…”
El shakes her head no, reaching for his backpack.
“Okay, okay” he laughs “Now it is, then” he takes the heavy package, beautifully wrapped in blue and gold ribbons, and hands it to her.
As she eagerly unwraps the gift, Mike feels suddenly nervous. Sure, it had seemed a nice idea one week ago, but now he could feel his palms sweating and his heart beating wildly.
When she is done, the book is revealed. Mike starts jabbering a like the fool he right now feels he is.
“It’s a… a… fairy tale book. From the Brothers Grimm. I figured you kind of don’t know any these stories…” she opens the book, looking intently at the pictures from the oil paintings plastered on the pages as she leafs through it. It is an old edition, the hard cover and the classic illustrations giving the book the appearance of something other than just kid’s stories. But it had given Mike the sensation of something precious and it had suddenly felt perfect for her. “I thought you might like it… Will overheard Hopper and Mrs Byers talking the other night that you might join the school next year, if everything goes well with your tutoring… I thought, that, you know, this might help you. I can read with you, if you like-”
“Mike” El interrupts him, smile so bright in the dim light of the corridor Mike thinks she might actually be glowing “I really liked it. Really”.
He deflates a little, relieved. But only for a second.
“There’s… hum… an… an inscription on the front page”.
El quickly turns the pages.
“Merry Christmas, El. From: Mike” she reads his blocky handwriting, her finger following every word. He knows exactly the moment she realizes there is a hidden message, because her eyes shot up to him and his heart starts thundering even more uncontrollably inside his chest.
“Morse code?” Mike nods. He knows she is the most well versed of them all in deciphering the dots and dashes. “A secret? For me?” she whispers.
“Kind of, yes” he whispers back, because he can’t, for the love of God, trust his voice at this moment.
El concentrates, biting her bottom lip and rearranging the book on her lap.
“I…” she starts; so lowly he can barely hear it. “L… O… V… E… Y… O…”
And then she stops. Mike isn’t breathing properly anymore. He feels warm all over, can feel his cheeks burning like a bonfire. What the hell was he thinking? They are kids, just kids! It’s not supposed to be this intense, but dammit, then it is. He can’t help it. She was gone for so long, and it was like the floor had disappeared under him. It had been hell, literal hell, all those 353 days of not knowing but hoping. He is thirteen, and what the hell does he know? But now she is here, real and beautiful and within his reach and he can’t-
The book falls from her lap, slipping as she moves closer to him. They are still kneeling, but now their knees touch. She is just staring at him with those huge brown eyes of her, an expression he cannot read on her face. She is so close he can’t see anything else. Just her.
“El” he starts on a sigh. He thinks for one second that if someone comes this way and sees them, he will never hear the end of it. But then she interrupts his line of thought, placing her hand on his cheek. Her fingers feel cold on his overheated face. Her other hand joins in, touching his other cheek, caressing his cheekbones with her thumbs. He never knew there were so many nerve ends on his face. Her eyes never, not for one second, leave his.
Mike is frozen, thoroughly and completely. El has never done anything like this, her touches always shy, although never lacking any meaning. This is a whole different thing. He feels like falling into a never-ending hole and he will blame his haywired brain for his actions, because he places his hands on El’s waist, if only just to have something to hold onto.
He is much taller than she is now, even kneeling. He feels her ever so gently bent his head. One of her hands moves from his cheek to his forehead, moving his hair away until she can press her lips to his forehead. El lingers there, second after second, and Mike has to close his eyes, because he has never, never felt…
El moves, then, letting him raise his head again, but not letting go at all. He opens his eyes in time to see her face move to the side, her lips kissing the spot on his right cheekbone her fingers had just been caressing. He feels a shiver running down his spine and El moves again. He thinks she might be moving away, so he clenches his hands into fists, balling a handful of her blue sweater on each side of her waist. He never wants this to stop. She pauses in front of him, her breath warm on his lips, before moving to his other side, kissing his other freckled cheek. She is melting him now; Mike is grateful for already being on the ground, because he is pretty certain his legs stopped functioning the moment she touched his face.
She is staring at him again, her eyes swallowing him whole. Her hands have moved to his neck, their faces so close their noses almost touch. He wants to lean in, kiss her senseless, but this is her game they are playing, she is the one calling the shots here, he knows deep within him.
“El” he calls her name again. He can’t name what he is feeling. It’s too much, it will devour him.
“Mike”.
Her thumb starts moving rhythmically on his neck.
It is an easily recognizable message.
Dot Dot
Dot Dash Dot Dot
Dash Dash Dash
Dot Dot Dot Dash
Dot
Dash Dot Dash Dash
Dash Dash Dash
Dot Dot Dash
I
LOVE
YOU
Mike smiles, his chest filled with something good. His eyes are watering and he feels stupid for wanting to cry. But El is also teary eyed and she is also smiling to him. He is still smiling when she leans closer and kisses his lips.
His whole body relaxes, his fists unclenching on her sides, his arms bringing them closer and his hands cupping her cheeks, touching her hair. He has been dreaming of doing that for longer than he would dare to admit, and now he can. This feels right. El cares for him just as much as he cares for her, and there are monsters and other dimensions out there, but Mike Wheeler could not care any less about it.
The kiss is soft and endearing, the new sensation of her hands on his cheeks, and neck and hair giving him tingles that reach the tips of his toes. Mike would gladly have it last until the next time the world is about to end.
Loud music starts blaring from the living room, scaring them both. Mike recognizes The Clash’s guitar tunes before the lyrics to “Should I Stay or Should I Go” start. Their hands fall to their respective laps when they stare at each other, both wide eyed, with ragged breathing and blushing.
“Maybe” Mike starts, but has to stop to clear his throat. His voice is no good at all. “Maybe we should… should go back? Before someone comes looking for us?”
El nods, gathering her book along with the wrappings. Mike helps her up and she does not let go of his hand.
“Mike” the way she makes his name sound, like it is something so dear to her, swells his heart.
“Yes?”
“Thank you. This is the best present”.
He hugs her, not knowing what else to do. Words were hard for El and, right at this moment, they were hard for him, too. But touch, he could always rely on that with her. He touches his forehead to the top of her head, feeling her breath on his chin.
When they arrive in the living room, Jonathan is holding court with all of his records, writing down requests of mixtapes for apparently everyone. Hopper gives them a hard stare Mike chooses to ignore for the moment. The prospect of being murdered by the Chief of Police vanishing right now. Nothing can take the grin off his face.
“What were you two up to?” Dustin asks, voice dripping with malice.
Max laughs, and Mike is about to give a rude retort when El’s calm voice comes to the rescue.
“Mike gave me a book”.
“Can I see it?” Will asks “Cool, this one has Rumpelstiltskin! I used to like that one”
“Let me see, let me see!” Dustin reaches for the book, taking it away before Lucas can reach for it.
When Lucas starts complaining, El and Mike sit on the sofa, watching their friends discuss on the ground. She still had not let go of his hand and, he notices, she is now tapping rhythmically with her thumb on his wrist.
Dot Dot
Dot Dash Dot Dot
Dash Dash Dash
Dot Dot Dot Dash
Dot
Mike looks at her, smiling as he taps back:
Dash Dot Dash Dash
Dash Dash Dash
Dot Dot Dash