Work Text:
Mike entered his apartment to see Will with his legs crossed and back hunched over a canvas. Slick oil paint coated his hands and some even managed to splatter across his face, and Mike couldn't help but stare fondly. He’s swamped in an oversized sweater that drowned his frame and thin cotton shorts he stole from Max a couple months ago. His usual bowl cut was messily curled at the ends, slightly damp from a shower he must’ve taken earlier.
Their curtains were pulled back to reveal a perfectly setting sun that bathed Will in soft golden light. His cheekbones were highlighted in velvety orange hues and Mike swore he could count each and every freckle on the shorter boy’s face.
He almost didn’t even want to disturb his peace, but he knew how easy it was for his boyfriend to get lost in his craft. Sometimes, Will would go whole nights without rest, being so absorbed in capturing the essence of whatever caught his interest.
“Hey,” Mike called out softly from his place in the doorway, not wanting to startle the other boy. “What are we working on today?”
Will looked up and gave Mike a bleary smile, it held just enough fondness to send butterflies reeling into Mike’s chest. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
It was a force of habit for Will to never show off his paintings until they were completely rendered and complete. They’ve turned it into a game after a while, Mike cracking far-off guesses while Will howled in laughter at his ridiculousness.
After he pushed himself off of the doorframe, Mike made his way over to where Will was sitting. He draped himself over the boy completely, making them both topple over in a messy heap.
“How long has it been?” he murmured over Will’s sputtered exclamations and weak shoves for him to get off.
Will hummed slightly, the vibrations tickling the crook of Mike’s neck from where he lay. “It’s only been a few hours.” Betraying his statement, he let out a yawn and rubbed his eyes sleepily.
Mike heaved himself up and propped his elbows on both sides of Will’s head to send him a knowing look. “Well I'm tired, which means you are as well by association.”
Taking the way Will huffed and rolled his eyes as a challenge, Mike dove down to press feather light kisses across every plain of the other boy’s face. Will yelped and wrapped his arms around his waist to try and reverse their position.
“Get off of me, Wheeler! You’re cold!”
Mike cackled and shifted his right hand to rub circles over where Will’s sweater rode up, if only to see the boy shiver. “Do you give in, Will the wise?”
“Yes, yes! I give in.” Will heaved between breathy giggles.
With a delighted hum, Mike finally stood. He reached down to entangle his fingers with Will’s, hauling the other boy up with him. Will pressed an affectionate peck against the back of their conjoined hands and let Mike lead him off to their shared bedroom.
As soon as they made it, he shoved Mike gently towards their closet. If he hadn’t said anything he knew Mike would just sleep in his work uniform. “We can sleep as soon as you change.”
Mike playfully rolled his eyes and turned to shuck off his shirt and jeans. He pulled on his old Hellfire shirt and a worn-out pair of pajama bottoms before looking back at Will–who peered distantly out their bedroom window.
He couldn’t help but stare, again, because god was that boy beautiful. Just being with him could fill his heart for the rest of this lifetime and the next. Often, Mike thought about how lucky he is to end up with his childhood sweetheart–the person of his dreams. They understood each other better than anyone else could, and he wouldn’t want to have it any other way.
When he zoned back in, Will caught his gaze and gave him a look as if he hung the moon and stars. His expression was mushy and impossibly soft, almost like he could read Mike’s mind. He shifted slightly from where he was sprawled out on the bed, leaving enough space for Mike to crawl over.
Their bed was large, being able to house the both of them and the cats they sometimes stayed up late thinking about adopting. More than enough space, especially since they ended up sprawled over one another more often than not.
Finally, Mike settled in the bed and shifted so the pair were facing each other. He gently tucked a loose strand of Will’s hair behind his ear, expression as soft as silk and honey. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
Will just pressed his face against the exposed part of his collarbone, letting out a content sigh. From this position Mike could smell the lavender and vanilla of his shampoo and he simpered.
Minutes passed steadily, and sleepiness started to burn at his eyes–his legs long since gone numb from where they were tucked between Will’s.
At that moment, Mike Wheeler decided that he wanted to stay like this forever. To be so close to his Will Byers that he could trace every angle on his face and map out everything that made Will so special.
He was so hopelessly in love it was overwhelming.
He didn’t want to let go, everything was so perfect it felt like a dream. So he let himself cling, even when Will’s lips had long since parted and let out shallow breaths. He basked in the way Will’s long eyelashes delicately fanned against his chest and the way he could feel the other boy’s heart beat.
Mike knew Will like the back of his hand, every quirk and habit. It’s so intimate–to know someone almost as much as you know yourself. To be able to close your eyes and still know exactly what they look like, how their smile could light up every room they enter.
The moon was his only company as he counted the rise and fall of Will’s shoulders, a motion that sent Mike further into drowsiness.
As he laced their fingers together again and rested his head against Will’s, he allowed himself to drift off.
He dreamed of paint-covered hands and dangerously soft lips.