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El Hopper enjoys her new job. She feels at home — giggling with five-year-olds all day long, decorating her classroom with sparkles and colors, and watching their little minds activate and mold as the weeks go on. Communicating with their parents isn’t always fun, but for the most part, she’s overjoyed that she chose to become a kindergarten teacher.
The issue lies in why she likes it in the first place, though: she rarely talks to people her own age. Sure, she chats with other teachers in the lounge throughout each day, but conversations never get to the point of making plans to hang out outside of school. El knows this is an issue with her comfort zone and, again, why she set out to work with children in the first place — it’s just that she’s very much a child at heart. Adults seem to always be doing adult stuff, which never comes off as fun.
That’s why it’s like a breath of fresh air when she finally crosses paths with Will Byers, Hawkins Elementary’s beloved art teacher. He had put out a request for help with decorating the school for the fall season, and El loves crafts, so she’d happily planned to stay late today to cut out construction paper leaves and canvas the halls with seasonal joy. She guesses these are the benefits to not having a family to get home to, rolling her eyes when no other teachers show up.
Will sheepishly apologizes, saying, “You can go home, really— it’s my job anyway. I’m sure I can get my husband to come down here and help me another night.”
“No, no, I really don’t mind,” El urges, chuckling. “It’s not like I have anything better to do.”
“Are you sure?” Will asks.
“Promise,” El says with a genuine smile. “Where do you wanna start?”
It’s not that El is a total loser or anything — she’s just had trouble making friends as an adult. She had friends in college, but she ended up in an abusive relationship that traumatized her so badly that she had to move back home with her dad and finish the rest of her degree online. It kind of set her up for failure on the social side of things, and the one best friend she did manage to keep, Max, is now long-distance, which sucks. It took her a little while, but she finally has a job she loves and is getting out there one day at a time.
With just the two of them, it takes about two hours to achieve the vision Will had. In those two hours, El has learned that Will’s husband’s name is Mike and they have a cat named Dorothy, his husband works as a project manager but is trying to save enough money to quit so he can focus on finishing his first manuscript, this is Will’s third year as an art teacher, he grew up in Hawkins, he and his husband saved up enough money to finally go to the beach for their honeymoon this past summer (two years later), and he usually doesn’t talk this much (or at all) about his husband, but he felt like El was special and wanted to open up.
It’s like this Mike was practically there with them with how much El knows about him now — she can’t even be upset, though, because every time Will shares a detail, there’s a glimmer in his eyes and a flush over his cheekbones as if it’s the first time he’s talking about it. She also learned that he and El relate in a lot of ways: they both had shitty childhoods, they both still love animated movies, and they’re both very gay, which was only the cherry on top of her feeling so comfortable around Will so fast.
Over the next week, she finds herself thinking of reasons to stop by the art room, and Will joins her for lunch if they ever have the same break hour. El is grateful for how natural things have been with Will — like they were meant to find each other or something, as corny as that sounds. She doesn’t want to be presumptuous, but after three weeks, she almost feels she could call Will a best friend. Things are simple for her, and when she sees a good person, she wants to keep them around. This means she’s ecstatic when, after discussing how to creatively celebrate the holidays at school, Will asks if she wants to come over to brainstorm some more.
“My husband will be home, but I’ll make him stay in our room or something,” Will says, smiling down at his thermos of soup, blowing on the steam rising to his face. “He won’t bother us.”
“It’s okay if he does,” El reassures him. “I’m honestly curious to meet this famous Mike.”
Will laughs in response and gives her his address, planning for dinner at six o’clock.
…
When El arrives at Will’s house, the first thing she sees is Dorothy, who’s watching out the window. She’s greeted at the door by Will, and he leads her into the kitchen, where (presumably) Mike is spooning soup into a bowl.
Mike has jet-black, wavy hair that falls into his face and curls up at his neck. He sports a crewneck, sweatpants, and socks that are bunched up over the top of the cuffs. From the scene El is currently witnessing, she gathers that they just finished making dinner together — there’s music playing softly on the radio in the kitchen, Will has a towel thrown over his shoulder, and Mike has moved to finish putting a few ingredients away.
The house is quaint and adorned with simple decorations, including framed photos of Will and Mike posing at various occasions, a few with other family members, and some pieces of art that she guesses are Will’s. It’s warm inside and smells fantastic, like a candle has been burning for a few hours. It feels like a real home, lived-in and christened with love and care — which is nothing less than El would have expected based on what she already knows about Will.
“You must really like soup,” El blurts out, in place of any sane way to greet friends. ‘Hi, lovely home, thanks for having me,’ wouldn’t have sufficed, no. Not even ‘How are you guys?’ Just straight for the meal choice judgment. Good one, El.
“It’s fall!” Will exclaims, then makes a show of putting a hand up to his mouth and whispering, “It’s also one of the very few things we feel confident making,” with a wink. El giggles.
“You need to come over for one of our homemade pizza-making nights, that’s when we get really gourmet,” Mike says, then wipes off his hands and holds one out to shake hers. “You must be the famous El. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“You’re famous to me!” she says, smiling and looking in Will’s direction.
“She did say that earlier,” Will confirms.
Mike laughs. “Will is just very good at talking about the people he cares a lot for,” he says. Will is making eyes at him, and he grabs his soup. “Please— make yourself at home, I’m going to get out of your way, I have some stuff to work on tonight,” he urges as he makes his way out of the kitchen, “Enjoy!”
When he’s gone, El gives Will an apologetic look. “He really didn’t have to leave,” she says.
“I know,” he says. “Just because I live with a boy doesn’t mean he has to hog all my friends,” he shrugs.
“He’s your husband,” El laughs incredulously.
“Same thing,” Will says. “Now get your soup, and we can go to the living room. Oh! That’s another good thing about soup— it’s very portable.”
“That’s true,” El says, following Will’s directions.
…
They spend about forty-five minutes focused on their “impromptu Hawkins Elementary holiday festivities committee of two” planning, with rabbit trails of personal topics sprinkled in, before Mike re-enters the living room, beelining for the kitchen.
“Just coming to make some tea,” Mike whispers, “Do you guys want any?”
“Sure,” El chirps.
“Yes, please,” Will says. Mike prepares the kettle and their tea bags and then hangs around in the kitchen idly, likely expecting Will and El to continue unbothered. The two share a look, laugh, and then Will looks at Mike from the couch.
“Honey, it’s okay— you don’t have to wait in there alone,” he calls. Mike stalks into the living room and sits next to Will on the couch, and Will reaches out a hand so theirs can intertwine. “I appreciate that you were so respectful, though,” he says, mostly joking, and kisses Mike on the head.
“I feel like you guys were solving the world’s problems in here,” Mike says. “Did you get things figured out?”
“Kinda, we also got really distracted,” Will says, sharing a look with El and laughing. She notices how he relaxes in Mike’s presence — it’s not a huge difference, but it’s noticeable enough in how he talks slower and lower, his body instinctively angling into Mike’s. “But we have a few ideas solidified, right?”
El nods. “Yeah, I think we do,” she says. “Thank you both for having me over. This was really nice.”
“You’ll have to come over more often,” Will says. “We never get up to much throughout the week.” Mike nods along.
“I literally never have anything going on, so maybe I will,” El says with a smile. “So, Mike— Will said you’re a project manager?” She decides that if she’s going to be best friends with Will, she should get to know Mike better, too.
“Yup,” Mike says, popping the ‘p’ sound. “Couldn’t disappoint the parents in too many ways, I guess,” he says with a dry laugh.
“ Mike , don’t say that,” Will scolds. Mike rolls his eyes.
“No, but yeah. It’s honestly not terrible, and I’m not mad about the money it makes. It’s just not what I want to be doing with my life. It’s also unfair to Will to be constantly writing in my free time. I think we’re financially almost in a place where I can quit, get a lower-stakes job, and give myself more time to work on my book during the day.”
“But for now, he gets to wear a suit every day, which is very cute,” Will adds as Mike gets up to finish making their tea.
“So… Are you guys close with your families? I saw some pictures,” she asks, hoping it’s not too invasive of a question.
“Yeah, we are,” Will says with a smile. “Mike’s parents are fine— his mom especially has been lovely ever since we started telling people we were together. His dad still treats us like we’re roommates and nothing more, but— at least he’s not trying to kill us, you know? It’s not like he gave a shit about Mike before anyway— don’t get me started, whatever.” Will rolls his eyes and continues.
“Mike is, like, best friends with my brother, which is nice. They do things without me all the time.” He pouts a little at Mike, who laughs as he sets their mugs on the coffee table and plops back down. “It’s not like I’d want to go, like, golfing or whatever. But still. And then my mom is great, we were just on the phone with her before you got here, actually. Wait, that reminds me— you aren’t related to a Jim Hopper, are you?”
“That’s my dad. Why?” Mike almost spits out his tea, and Will starts choking. Mike doesn’t seem too alarmed by it, rubbing circles on his back as he leans in toward El.
“Do you know if your dad is dating right now?” Mike asks inquisitively.
“I mean, I think so? He goes out with people occasionally, but nothing serious,” she says, shifting her attention between Will and Mike to try and figure out where this is going.
“Well, you should ask him what he thinks about Joyce Byers,” Will says, “because apparently, they’ve been on like six dates over the course of two weeks.”
“Wait, oh my god!” El gasps. “What are the odds that our parents start dating around the same time we become friends. That’s crazy!”
“Isn’t it?” Will laughs in disbelief. “We could be like siblings one day.” El feels warm at the thought of a family like Will’s joining hers — she doesn’t know what his brother and mom are like, but if they’re anything like Will and Mike, she’d be lucky to have them. She loves the life she’s had with her dad, but she admits they get lonely sometimes, just the two of them.
“Are you close with your dad?” Will asks.
“I am, but our relationship has changed as I’ve gotten older. When I was little, he was like my superhero. Now, we aren’t as close, especially since he doesn’t— know about me,” El explains, the words coming out slowly.
Mike nods like he’s registering what she means and adjusting naturally. “Been there,” he breathes empathetically. “It’s hard as shit to move past that.”
“Yeah,” she says. “I honestly just have no idea what his reaction would be. But it’s not like I’m rushing to date anyone right now anyway, so I have nothing to tell. I don’t know. It’s complicated.”
“It’s okay to be complicated,” Will says. “You’re always free to vent or talk about any part of that with us, too. We’re not experts, but having people who get it isn’t always easy to come by in Hawkins.”
“Thank you guys,” El says, and she almost feels like she wants to cry. It’s like a string of fate really did tie them together.
“No problem,” Mike says, smiling gently, then sits up straight and looks at Will. “Wait, isn’t the Hawkins Christmas Parade next weekend? You should come with us!”
“Oh yeah!” Will exclaims. “Are you going with anyone?”
“No, I didn’t even know if I was gonna go yet,” El admits.
“You’re definitely coming with us then. Next Saturday,” Mike says.
“Okay,” El says, not even trying to conceal the wide smile stretching across her face. Friends, she thinks.
…
El tugs her coat closer to her body and readjusts her scarf as she parses through the crowd to find Will and Mike. She can smell the sweet aroma of roasted nuts and hot cocoa and faintly hears the school choir singing Carol of the Bells in the distance.
“El!” A few feet away, Mike is waving a gloved hand in the air to get her attention. She tries to contain her smile as she skips over to them. Will is wearing a stocking cap with a pom at the crown of his head, and his nose is rosy from the cold. He’s bundled up as much as humanly possible, while Mike is sporting a lighter sherpa-lined denim jacket, one she recognizes from Will wearing it earlier in the fall, with a thin beanie, his longer hair flipping out from its edges.
After she greets them, Mike checks his watch and says, “The parade is supposed to start in, like, thirty minutes. Do you guys wanna get some food?”
“Sure, I’m starving,” Will says.
“Fine with me!” El agrees.
The three walk around the town square, stopping at local booths and being stopped by students and their parents too many times to keep count.
When they agree to stop for corn dogs at the next food truck they see, Will orders first, and then Mike gestures for El to order next. She looks a little bewildered, but with both of them staring at her expectantly, she steps forward and tells the cashier what she wants.
“It’s nothing,” Mike says as he hands the cashier his card and trades him for their food. She notices the picture of Will in his wallet as he clumsily fits the card back in. As they walk toward an open table, he continues, “You two are like royalty around here— buying a meal is the least a nobleman like me can do.” He bows dramatically for good measure and then walks ahead.
El thinks dreamily about the ease with which Will let Mike pay for their things, how he didn’t even make an effort to get out his wallet — she wonders if he even brought a wallet at all. It must be nice being married.
“You’re so lucky,” she says absently.
“What, that he paid for my food?” Will asks and then snorts. “We share a bank account, El.”
El feels her face heat up before she quietly says, “Oh— yeah, that makes sense.”
“I mean, I’m still very lucky,” he adds. “Even though it’s my money too, it still feels good to have someone take care of me, you know? And he likes to. So, it works.”
“That’s sweet,” El says, and then they plop down across from Mike at the table to finish their lunch.
The next few hours passed with ease — they’d found a perfect spot to watch all the floats drive by, with Mike critiquing each one and Will finding something nice to say in return. El enjoyed them all, but she loved joining in with their bickering most. Especially the dramatic look of betrayal on Will’s face when she’d picked Mike’s side. It felt so nice to laugh together, to have her presence be genuinely valued by friends. To not feel like she had to mask or act like a put-together adult to be accepted. Something so simple, but to El, was everything.
Later, she’s tucked into a booth at the bakery on the corner with Will (and the rest of Hawkins) while Mike waits in line to buy them hot chocolate. She notices Will watching Mike where he stands, his eyes lit up fondly. Just by observation, she can tell Mike is having trouble standing still — he’s shifting his weight from side to side, scrunching up his nose, reading the signs on the wall to entertain himself.
“He stands like a dad,” El says without thinking.
“He’s so cute,” Will says in response, not looking away.
A few moments pass, and because El has no idea how to read what is or isn’t appropriate to ask, but she hasn’t had any significant blunders yet with Will, she asks.
“Do you think you’ll want kids someday?”
Will turns his head and looks at her, but what he’s thinking is unreadable.
“I mean— yeah, I think so? Yeah,” he says with a toothy smile. “He’d be a perfect dad, oh my god,” he breathes out with a wet laugh. “We just don’t know how possible it is, so neither of us talk about it too much. Don’t wanna get our hopes up, I guess?”
“You two would be wonderful dads,” El says. “I feel like, if it’s meant to be, it’ll happen somehow.”
“Thank you, and I hope so,” Will says quietly before adding, “We still feel like babies ourselves, so there’s not really any rush, but it’s a nice thought to have.”
El laughs to herself. “It’s funny how all the straight married couples our age are already popping out their second and third babies by now because I still feel like a baby, too.”
“Right?” Will exclaims, nodding. “I swear, something about how we’re wired causes us to age slower than normal people, or something. I don’t mind it, though. It’s nice to kinda live in slow motion, especially now that I’m happy.”
“That’s such a good way of looking at it,” El says. “We just get to be kids for longer.”
“And who doesn’t want that?” Will says. There’s silence for a few moments, and they watch as Mike finally acquires three steaming cups of hot chocolate that he somehow manages to juggle between two hands. Then, Will says, “If your dad keeps wanting to spend time with my mom, something tells me he’s going to be perfectly fine knowing about you, by the way. If the day ever comes that you do want to tell him.”
“Thanks, Will. Your mom sounds really cool,” she says, smiling.
“She is,” he beams, moving to grab the third cup from Mike’s hand as he approaches their table.
“Here you go, m’lady,” Mike says, placing the other cup in front of El.
“Thank you for waiting in that horrible line,” she says.
“I don’t mind,” Mike says as he scoots in next to Will, smiling.
“Mmm, it was so worth it,” Will groans after taking a sip. “Thank you, baby.” He leans over and gives Mike a kiss on the lips. “Now I just want to go home, cuddle, and watch a Christmas movie.”
“Should we?” Mike asks, looking over at El like it’s obvious she’s invited.
“Depends on what Christmas movie you’re thinking of,” El says, quirking an eyebrow. “I personally hate The Grinch. He’s scary.”
“Okay, no Grinch then— what about Home Alone?” Will asks.
“Oooh, the second one, please!” Mike says.
El responds with a wide smile.
…
Apparently mulling wine has been something Mike has been into lately, and within minutes of them arriving at the Byers-Wheeler home, he has the pot and spices out and ready to go.
“It’s just, like, the perfect cold weather thing to do,” he says when El inquires as Will gets the movie set up.
“You’re always providing the drinks, aren’t you?” She observes.
“I feel it’s kind of my job as the husband to do so,” Mike says. El giggles. As much as she likes Mike as a friend almost equally to Will, she realizes that his role as her best friend’s husband causes him to give off the aura of a dad more than anything. It’s funny.
“Makes sense,” is all she says in response.
“Movie’s ready,” Will says as he joins them.
The three end up chatting in the kitchen for the next twenty minutes as the wine simmers until finally Mike pours them each a mug, and they transition to the living room.
El cozies up with a blanket and Dorothy on one end of the sectional, while Will cuddles into Mike’s side on the other. As the classic opening credits play, El realizes she’s never felt safer in a home that wasn’t her own. It’s not only in the way the house is decorated (though the intentional lighting, candles, and heaps of blankets help), but the quiet love and care they exude — for each other and anyone else they invite in.
“Wait, I should make cookies,” Will murmurs against Mike.
“If you want,” Mike says softly.
El laughs to herself. “You guys are perfect,” she says in amused disbelief.
By the time the McAllisters are rushing to the airport, Will has gotten up to go to the kitchen, mumbling something about I’ve seen this movie so many times, don’t worry, I’ll be right back, just store-bought ones, and El realizes she’s getting sleepy. Her eyelids grow heavy, and Mike is puckering his lips at Dorothy and whispering don’t bother her, come here, and she decides that agreeing to meet Will after school on that day in October was one of the best decisions she could have ever made.