Actions

Work Header

Better

Summary:

Sometimes even the best artists can be clumsy - that's why they need someone there to kiss them better.

Notes:

hi hello this is my submission for day 1 of byler week 2022, it fits both the halloween and au prompts :)

i dont really know what to say about this except sorry if its incoherent or messy in some places i wrote this so fast lmao (pretend this was posted on the right day xx)

Work Text:

William Byers was almost certain he would start screaming if he found another seed hiding inside the pumpkin he was hollowing out. It had been ten full minutes, yet still, he kept finding them.

With possibly too much pent-up anger towards the slimy menaces he kept discovering, Will threw his current handful into an overflowing bowl in the centre of the kitchen table. It landed with a displeasing squelching sound, causing Michael Wheeler, who was sat opposite him, to let out a small snicker.

The boys had decided to carve their pumpkins on either side of the Wheelers' kitchen island, not only because it gave them more space to claw out intestines from their vile orange shells, but also so they could surprise each other with their designs once they were done.

It wasn't really going to plan.

"I don't get why you hate the seeds so much," Mike started, a small smirk planted on his face. "Like, yeah, sure, they're kind of slimy and gross, but it feels like you have some sort of vendetta against them or something."

Will snorts, then replies, "Well maybe if they weren't the worst part of pumpkin carving - and they weren't the most horrendous things on the planet - I wouldn't hate them so much."

The smirk on Mike's face only seems to grow as he chooses his next words. Eventually, he settles on, "Then I guess you're not going to enjoy this!"

Before Will can even register the meaning behind Mike's words, his hair is littered with seeds, knitted together with the guts of the Devil's favourite vegetable.

Oh. It is on.

Will is reaching for the discard bowl before he can even allow a shocked look to cross his face, and he's pelting them at his boyfriend before he can utter a word. He halts as his heart flutters for a second as he refers to the boy before him as his boyfriend, which - unfortunately for him - was long enough for Mike to scoop up the strings that had overflown from the bowl and remained lining the tablecloth. Well, remained until they had been splattered against Will's chest, decorating his shirt in orange mush.

He looks down at the patches that had stuck to his shirt, jaw hanging slightly open in disbelief, and then back up at Mike, who was sat with a mischievous grin and an evil glint in his eyes.

So Will does it. He doesn't even think as he flips the bowl in his hands and pushes it forwards, propelling it's oozing contents at Mike, coating his entire head and torso in the gummy substance, and he can't help but let out a laugh as Mike's face scrunches up.

It doesn't last long, though, as he immediately feels bad and gets up to help pick pieces of pumpkin out of Mike's hair, a small smile still lingering on his face. Between them, they manage to completely de-pumpkin themselves fairly quickly, and before they know it, they're back on opposite sides of the table, working on their carvings, the bowl of vegetable intestines resting far enough away to be out of reach for both of them.

Secretly, Will basks in the warm feeling in his chest at being able to spend time with Mike, be close to him, touch him, talk to him, mess around with him - all the things they used to do. Neither of them had expected their seemingly unbreakable bond to, well, break. At the very least, they both assumed if it were to happen, it would be because of college, or jobs in the big city. The very last thing they thought could break them apart - their own free will - had done just that.

Fair to say, the last two years hadn't been the best for their friendship. In hindsight, it seemed like they had put up with so many individual, negative things, that it simply boiled over, and they both exploded. Mike and Eleven's relationship, Hopper's stupid curfew rules, Lucas always with Max, Dustin away at summer camp with Suzie, Will's lasting passion for D&D, the mall, the fight in the rain, the return of the mind flayer, El losing her powers, moving to California, Will being too scared to contact Mike in case he didn't reply, Mike being too scared to contact Will because he had finally realised how much he meant to him, Will could keep listing them for days.

Instead, he snaps himself back to reality. None of that is nearly as significant now as it was back then. They're dating now - and happier than ever. It was coming up on their six month anniversary fairly soon, as Mike and El had mutually broken up in the spring, followed by Mike's confession to Will a couple of weeks later, once Hawkins was safe, and they had started dating that same day, after what felt like an eternity of releasing their bottled up attraction to each other in the form of an intense first make-out session.

The memory brings a slight shade of pink to Will's cheeks, as he forces himself to focus on the present again.

They work in a comfortable silence, switching between various tools as they carve. Mike operates with a get-to-it attitude, his eyebrows furrowed slightly as he draws his design on in thick, black marker pen before going right in with the knives. Will, on the other hand, takes a little more time over his work. He bites his bottom lip in concentration as he traces his illustration onto the pumpkin with a metal skewer, plotting out every detail with his artistic point of view, very rarely using a knife.

Perhaps this is why, after a further ten minutes passes, Mike announces that he is almost done, whilst Will's pumpkin is still a collection of unfinished markings.

Not wanting to keep Mike waiting too long, he speeds up his carving, biting down harder on his bottom lip, his eyes forming a careful squint.

In hindsight, it was a bit of a stupid thing to do, as his hands still held an oily layer due to the seed war they had held earlier. All it took was one misguided movement of his wrist for the knife he was carving with to slip, colliding with the outside of his left thumb, which had previously been in place to hold the pumpkin steady.

With an almost hiss-like gasp, he dropped the blade and drew his thumb close for examination. The sudden sounds caused Mike to pause and look up in concern.

Blood was already beginning to run across his palm and down to his wrist as he muttered, "Ow, shit. Ow."

"Will! Holy shit, are you okay?" Mike was already by his side, staring down at him with worry in his eyes. "Shit, let me get you some tissue."

He moved with an air of panic, as if the wellbeing of Will's left thumb was a life or death situation, returning with tissue before running off again to collect what Will could only assume were medical supplies.

Will held the tissue onto his cut, wincing slightly at the contact. It hurt pretty bad, and it seemed kind of deep, and Will wondered if it would scar. Within an unreasonably short amount of time, Mike had returned, armed with possibly the entire first aid kit emptied into his pockets.

"Okay, I brought some stuff to fix that up. Just keep holding it, alright? We need to stop the bleeding," Mike's eyes were so full of admiration and concern and care that Will almost dropped the tissue as he gazed into them and the depth of emotion they held - and apparently Mike notices this, because a second later he's asking, "Are- um, are you good with that, or do you, uh, want me to?"

"Oh, sorry, I, uh... I don't-"

He can't even finish his sentence before Mike's careful fingers are pulling the tissue from Will's grasp and pressing it firmly onto his cut, yet somehow it's one of the most gentle things Will has ever felt. A blush crawls up his face as he glances down at his hand, secured between both of Mike's, one of his fingers drawing careless circles on his bloodied palm. It didn't matter that they'd been dating for months, Will still felt his breath hitch in his throat, and he had to force his heart to beat at a normal pace.

"Is this okay?" Mike asks, voice laced with sincerity and unease, yet barely above a whisper.

Will's cheeks only grow a darker shade of red as he hurries to nod in response, croaking out a "Y-yeah. Of course," for good measure. The gentle contact numbed the throbbing sensation in his thumb, and he silently noted that perhaps his boyfriend was the best painkiller. He could have sworn a million years passed in an instant, being with Mike felt so right. It felt warm and comfortable and safe and happy, it felt like a constant assurance that he was loved and valued, it felt like coming home. Mike just felt right.

Almost as quickly as it had landed, Mike removes his hand, taking the tissue with him to reveal the cut. Will had been right - it was a fairly deep cut, longer than he had expected, although the bleeding had calmed down a significant amount. Maybe longer than an instant had passed after all.

Mike wastes no time in reaching for an antiseptic wipe, ripping it open easily and gently pressing down around the cut. Will winced as it touched the inside, pulling his hand away harshly before an apologetic look graced his features, returning it shyly. Five minutes (and a lot of thorough cleaning, antiseptic cream, and closure strips) later, Mike was opening a plaster to go over the top, just to make sure. Peeling the backings off, he placed it down firmly, running his delicate fingers over it for good measure.

"Almost done." He hums, gazing at the dressing.

"What else could you possibly do?" Will laughs. "I'm sure its fine, thank you for doing this for me."

"Well," Mike starts, a smile growing on his face. He gets lost in Will's eyes as he raises his injured hand, only looking away to press a dainty kiss to the protected wound. "Obviously I need to kiss it better."

For a moment Will thinks they may have bigger issues than his thumb, as his heart skips a beat and his lungs stop taking in air, heat rising to his face above his slightly parted lips.

And, oh, Mike cannot resist those lips.

He tangles his free hand in the hair behind Will's ear, his palm cupping his jaw. Their eyes flutter closed as they lean in, noses grazing, before their lips finally meet.

The kiss is soft. Sweet. It's caring and emotional and all the other things that make Will feels like he's going to explode at how much he loves the boy he's kissing.

They pull away, but not far, keeping their foreheads touching with smiles spread across their faces, the occasional giggle littering the air.

"We should probably finish those pumpkins, huh?" Will suggests, a moment later.

"Yeah. I can help you with yours if you want? Y'know, so you don't hurt your thumb or anything. Not that you need help or anything I'm not trying to assume-"

"Mike. I'd love that. Thank you." Will finally pulls away to look into his eyes with a kind smile as he speaks.

Instead of sitting on opposite sides of the table as they did before, they both take a seat on Will's side of the table, since Mike's definition of 'almost done' was 'I'm literally finishing the last detail right this second', meaning his pumpkin sat complete on the other side of the table, still facing away from Will. Mike had said that he wanted to try to keep as much element of surprise as possible, so he didn't reveal his design yet.

Will's pumpkin was his artistic take on a traditional pumpkin carving, with the triangular nose and square teeth, but he had spent time contouring the blank space between it's features by scraping away layers of the pumpkin's shell, yet not fully puncturing it. Needless to say, watching Mike try to replicate his technique to finish the carving was fairly amusing, yet, miraculously, within another ten minutes it was complete.

"Thank you, Mike. Really." Will whispers as his gaze lingers on their combined masterpiece. Sure, it had flaws, but they had created it together, and Will thought that made it more beautiful than any professional artwork.

He smiles back at him, before seeming to remember his own work, facing away from them, just out of reach. He stands, makes his way around the island, and plants his hands firmly on top of the pumpkin, ready to spin it, yet hesitating slightly.

"I think I should give some context for this, because otherwise I guess it seems a bit boring, but uh," He turns the pumpkin around shyly. "Tadaah?"

Carved into the smooth surface were three bats of various sizes, their wings spread completely out and their bodies detailed and careful. They flew amongst a sea of orange, a glowing moon above them, surrounding by tiny, skewer sized stars. It was incredible.

"Holy shit, Mike, that's amazing!" Will beamed, eyes glowing. "It's so beautiful."

"Really? You think so?" A faint pink tint grazed his cheeks as he asked this.

"Yeah! I love the textures of it, it creates a really full atmosphere, but it's still so peaceful. You did a really good job."

"I, uh... Thank you, but, uh, I wanted to explain." Mike's face contorted into a sadder expression than before, but Will didn't understand why until he spoke. "It's... It's for Eddie. He, uh, he had bats tattooed on his arm, right here, and he loved halloween, so I thought I'd create a sort of memorial for him. Let a part of his spirit live on at his favourite time of year, you know?"

Will genuinely thought he could cry, and he had never even met Eddie. "Oh, Mike, that's so sweet." He stood up, made his way around the edge of the island, and embraced Mike in his arms. "I'm sure he would have loved it."

He feels a pair of arms embrace him back, and a chin next to his head, and then a quiet, "Thank you, Will. So much. Thank you."

A few minutes pass, with them tangled so tightly in the other's embrace that an onlooker would assume they had been glued together and were unable to move. Finally, they separate and decide they should put the pumpkins outside, since the sun had begun to set. Mike reasons that Will should get to light them both as he did the least amount of carving, so he grabs the box of matches on their way out.

Mike's neighbours had clearly had similar ideas, as all along the street, faint, flickering lights in the shape of faces and ghosts and all sorts of creatures danced in the wind. He placed the pumpkins beside the door, both on the same side, and lifted the tops off gently. Will bent down, struck the match, and lit both of the candles, rising up again so Mike could return the tops. They stood for a second, admiring their work in all of its bright glory, before Will shivers and they head back inside.

As soon as they're back behind the closed door, Mike takes Will into his arms, pulling him close into his chest.

"I know you don't like the cold." He hums. "I got you."

Will is overwhelmed with emotion, he wants to jump and cry and laugh and scream all at the same time, but he doesn't move, because he feels so, so safe in his boyfriend's arms.

He is so grateful to be able to say that, to be able to call the boy who means the most to him his boyfriend, to know they feel the same way about each other.

Being with Mike is like being at home. He loves it so much.

God, he loves him so much.

"I guess you'll just have to kiss me better."

Series this work belongs to: