Chapter Text
000
Contrary to popular belief, New York isn’t a walk in winter wonderland. It’s more like Hell frozen over.
Don't get Mike wrong; he likes New York. He’s grown to like New York; it was just that he always had a hard time adjusting to something new. To change. New York hadn’t been his first pick either; he had hoped to stay in Hawkins just a little longer but decided quickly the reasons he wanted to stay were for nothing good.
Even though, for the most part, Mike couldn’t wait to be away from Hawkins, the closer it got to leaving, the more Mike realized he was having a hard time trying to comprehend the idea of being away from his friends after fighting monsters from another dimension and going through the end of the world and saving the world together.
All that trauma does wonders in tricking you to stick to what you know rather than exploring things you don’t.
They were all scattered around now, which took awhile to get used to, and sometimes Mike finds himself still trying to get used to it.
When the world finally stopped trying to end, most of the party had already decided what they wanted to do and where they wanted to go. Mike hadn't; of course, he had a lot of things on his mind back then. End of the world kind of things and other things he’s pretty sure he still hasn’t figured out, even if he is twenty-two now. Its fine. He’ll figure it out eventually. Probably. Hopefully.
Dustin had decided in middle school he wanted to go to MIT so he didn’t struggle too much with applications. Lucas struggled a bit, mostly because he didn’t want to make any decisions without Max, and Max didn’t want him to make decisions based on her opinions and wanted him to do whatever he wanted to do (and Lucas had told her that as long as she was with him, he’d be happy with anything). Eventually, Lucas had gotten some letters back, and after weighing his options, Caltech seemed to be in his best interest.
Max had decided she didn’t want to attend college, and El did the same. Their reasons were different, of course, and never really explained, but the two didn’t really need to give any explanations. Max had lost all of her vision and was in pain most of the time and felt she didn’t have many options in her cards of what she could do. She did, however, get a nice job as a receptionist at a tattoo and piercing parlor that paid pretty well and has some very interesting people she enjoys being around. She has gotten a few tattoos since working there that she likes to show off whenever she can, and they are all pretty sure she’ll end up with a full sleeve one day.
El still lives with Joyce and Jim, but she went back and forth a lot to visit each and every one of them when she could. Most of her visits were at Lucas’ and Max's. When she wasn’t visiting anyone, El worked at a shelter for pets. She would always gush about the latest addition to the place or when one would get adopted when she visited. She had managed to convince Joyce and Jim to let her adopt a cat that had been dropped off her first year of working there. It had been abused and abandoned and seemed to only find comfort in El. After some pouting and pleading, the two agreed. El had named the cat whiskers.
When it came to Mike, it had taken him the longest to decide on what he wanted to do. He wasn’t sure where would be the right place to go. Where would be the best place to stay so he could still be with his friends? Them being all over didn’t really help when it had come to his decision-making.
When he had visited New York, the first thing Mike noticed was how busy it was compared to Hawkins. It was very overwhelming, to the point Mike hid in some random bathroom of a diner they had stopped at to cry because he was so overwhelmed. It seemed like time never stopped moving in New York, and for the first time in his life, Mike hated it. He hated how fast everything was going. He wished time would slow down so he could spend a little longer with his friends living a normal life like they should have had in the first place.
He had visited some colleges that were nice and had some really cool professors for creative writing. There had also been a few libraries and book stores Mike couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of. There were so many books he had never seen before. So many books he would have never read in Hawkins because of the fear of what others would think of him for reading. He bought a few copies with the little money he had during his visit, and those books are now cracking in the spine and creases forever imprinted on certain pages for the number of times they had been folded over. They were books he cherished and would never get enough of, no matter how much he read them.
The decision to go to New York was quick and without a second thought, even if he had been reluctant in the beginning. After a sleepless night of thinking about how different New York was from Hawkins, how he liked all the little shops in the city, the diversity of every person he crossed, the spaciousness of the dorms, and many more things, Mike decided, if he got accepted, he would go to New York.
It might have also helped that Will was going to New York too.
Will had been the first one to share his pick and also the first to get a letter back. The way he said it was clear that his decision was final and that it didn’t really matter if his friends joined him or not. Not that Will didn’t want to be with his friends; of course he did; it was just that Will knew what he wanted and knew he wasn’t going to change his mind. Out of all of them, he was the one itching for the year to end so he could hurry and leave Hawkins for good, which was understandable.
Really, Mike hadn’t even visited New York for himself. Will had asked him to come, and of course Mike agreed to. Actually, the only place Mike had sent in an application was the community college in town, mostly because he had to send one in or else people would ask questions he didn’t want to answer.
New York had been the only place Will looked at, and Mike was half sure it was because Jonathan would be near by. Jonathan was with them the whole time, much to Mike's dismay. Half of the time Jonathan wasn’t showing Will around; Jonathan had this stare on Mike like he could read him like an open book. It was very uncomfortable, and Mike did his best to ignore it.
They had stayed at Jonathan's apartment too, which was a small, one-bedroom apartment. Mike and Will had slept in the cramped room. Will took the couch while Mike gathered up as many blankets and pillows he could to make the floor somewhat comfortable. Will had tried to get Mike to switch the second night, but Mike wouldn’t budge an inch, so on the third night, the two squeezed together on the couch that was definitely not made for two people to sleep on. It was fine, though. Even if Mike was up red in the face when he realized they were cuddling and couldn’t help but think about how nice it felt to have Will hold him in his sleep.
(Jonathan had walked in that morning too, blankly staring at a cherry-toned Mike for a moment before heading into the kitchen to fix him some coffee and then mumbles in his drink that, “The plane leaves at 12:30.” as he heads back to his room.)
The three-day stay, Mike knew that New York was where Will would go, and the week after returning back to Hawkins, it had left such a sour taste in his mouth, and Mike still could never figure out why.
He had gotten over it quickly though, after Will had announced he had gotten his acceptance letter, and that same night Mike decided too that if he got one back, he’d go too.
Thankfully he had, and Mike and Will spent their first two years in college as roommates and are now on their third year together, renting a two-bedroom apartment with a cat Will got from Els shelter in Hawkins the previous winter she came by.
Truthfully, had it not been for Will, Mike wouldn’t have enjoyed New York as much as he does. Their first year as roommates was much too fun and felt like sleepovers they used to have as kids. They watched movies almost every night if they didn’t have to study or work. They would eat dinner together; that was usually takeout because Mike thought the food on campus was gross and he’d rather have Chinese food that was almost an hour away because he craved their spicy noodles about every night, even if it made his stomach hurt.
They went to a few parties for the experience but usually left about an hour in because frat parties weren’t that fun when everyone around was so shitfaced. Usually Mike would sneak a few drinks in their dorm, and they’d get a little tipsy in their room together and giggle away at the stupid stuff they saw or heard that week. They never drank too much because Will didn’t care all that much for alcohol, and Mike didn’t really like the taste, just the buzz it gave him.
Will liked to read whatever Mike was working on in class when they drank too, even if Mike would moan and groan about how it wasn’t finished and it needs to be edited.
Will would always read loud and dramatic, even if it didn’t match the story that was written. Mike would grin either way and would snort when Will would read a peer review with such annoyance. “The main character’s perspective doesn’t make sense.” Is this person stupid or what? It’s so obvious the main character is an unreliable narrator! This is seriously a kid in your class?”
The second year of college had been the same. Sharing a dorm, movie nights, short trips to frat parties but less frequent than the year before after the two decided it was more comfortable to drink in their dorm where they could pass out on their own beds rather than a strangers, less Chinese takeout, and now Mexican because Will had gone one night with a group of kids from one of his classes that he immediately told Mike about as soon as he got back from the dinner. Whenever Will would criticize the peer reviews of Mike's work, Mike would do the same with Will's because god art majors were more mean, apparently. Mike will never forget the day Will stormed into their dorm muttering away about how his professor was making him start over on a piece all because one of his classmates gave some shitty criticism because that student didn’t like any style of art that wasn’t Realism.
Those first two years had been fun for Mike. Mostly because he had Will by his side. Some nights though, Mike couldn’t help but miss his other friends so much it ruined his whole day. He would get too distracted, worrying that it had been a few days too long since he had last called them. It didn’t help that it had been hard to find good times that worked out for everyone to visit each other when breaks would come around. It wasn’t just their friends scattered around; their families had all moved too.
That spring break when Hawkins split into four, half of the town evacuated. Dustin barely managed to convince his mother to stay. Lucas fought day and night with his father for the first time ever that first month after the events at the Creel home. Lucas refused to leave his friends. To leave Max. It didn’t matter if his father had to drag him out of that town; Lucas would still find a way back. Mike's mother had been ready to leave too, but quickly realized that what happened hadn’t just been an earthquake.
The moment the kids graduated though... Their families left just as fast as their children. Dustin's mother lived in Illinois now; Lucas’ family was in Florida; Max’s mother had moved back to California; and Mike's family was in Ohio. Will's family had stayed in Hawkins, but each time they came to New York to see Will and Jonathan, they would stay longer, and the three siblings had a bet going on when Joyce and Jim would announce they were moving to New York.
Their first year of college, the party had only managed to get together for summer break. A week and a half was spent in California at Max’s mother's place, and then the rest of the summer was spent in Florida at Lucas’ parents home. The second year had treated them all a bit better with time, and they had all gotten together in California for fall break, New York for spring break, and lastly, a few days of Christmas break in Illinois.
The third year was becoming even better for the party to meet up, with them all having their own living spaces now and forever free from too small dorm rooms. Lucas and Max had found an apartment towards the end of their second year and moved in when Lucas had his last exam that semester, and only El and Dustin had visited. Dustin had been next, finding a place over the summer that he would share with two other people. The whole party had visited for that, just at their own separate times. Mike and Will had gotten an apartment together to, mostly because Jonathan was getting a bit tired of having to share his one bedroom apartment with his brother, and sometimes Mike right before a semester would start or when Mike wouldn’t go visit his own family for breaks. Jonathan had actually helped them find a place cheap enough and thankfully not run down.
Moving in had been a little stressful for Mike—more stressful than moving into his dorm, which was given. While most New York apartments weren’t huge, the place was definitely bigger than a cramped dorm room. Their apartment had two bedrooms right across from each other and a bathroom they unfortunately still had to share, though Mike didn’t really mind all that much sharing. He liked bothering Will in the mornings sometimes when he was brushing his teeth or messing with his hair. They also had an actual kitchen, and while not big, it was still nice to say he had his own kitchen that was filled with plates, bowls, and utensils gifted to them by their mothers. The living room was a decent size too, which had been decorated with a book shelf, a thrifted green couch big enough for Mike and Will to sit on, a round coffee table that had some storage space on the inside that mostly held junk Mike and Will would never throw away because they would forget about it, a tower for their cat El had gotten them, and sometimes an easel and canvas if Will was working on something.
Mike struggled the most with decorating the place, and most of the things they owned in their apartment had been picked by Will or their friends and family when they would send things, and truthfully, Mike was glad. Honestly, if he had been living on his own, it would be a miracle if he even had anything in the place that wasn’t his bedroom, which, by the way, had also been slightly decorated by Will. It wasn’t much, because Mike's room was his space, but Will did pick out his bedding, dresser, desk, and—whatever. It hadn’t been much! Mike picked out the book shelf and books that were in his room, and the rugs because he really couldn’t stand the hard wood flooring; it made his feet too cold even with socks on. He also had picked out the few posters he had up and the very cool standing lamp next to his desk that he had found at the thrift store and brought home even after Will said that if Mike brought that to their apartment, it would be thrown out to the street.
Wills room, and this is completely an unbiased opinion, was probably the best room in the apartment. Unlike Mike's room, it did have a window and fire escape that Mike found Will at frequently enough.
(When it had come to deciding on who got what room, Mike quickly offered this one to Will. He needed natural lighting for his paintings, after all, and Mike liked to read in dim, warm lighting anyway. )
Will had a stereo in his room with a bunch of mixtapes he collected or had been gifted through the years. His desk was cluttered with school assignments, paint brushes, and pictures of their friends and family. His bed was pushed into the corner of the room, with yellow sheets and yellow blankets. He had a closet and a dresser with a bunch of nicknacks on top, posters of his favorite bands and a few paintings, a nightstand next to his with a plain, boring lamp that couldn’t compete with Mike's very cool standing lamp, and string lights that wrapped around the edge of the window.
His room was cozy, in Mike's opinion. More cozy than his own, which was probably the reason Mike spent more time in Will's room than his own. Almost just like how Mike used to lay or sit on Will's bed back when they shared a dorm. Will never seemed to mind; his bed was big enough now to fit the both of them, and besides, Mike always went back to his own room when the night would end. Even if he didn’t want to. Mike had his own bed that he should get to anyway.
It was amazing getting to live with your best friend rather than some other random guy in college who probably wasn’t anywhere near as clean and neat as Will was. Mike took the title of uncleanliness in their apartment, but it wasn’t as bad as when he had his own room in Hawkins. Living with Will those first two years of college somehow managed to get him to be a bit more tidy, something his mother had been shocked to learn. Mostly Mike just let his dirty clothes pile up; he never made his bed because why would he when he’s going to lay back down in it in a couple of hours? He also had a habit of cleaning dishes but not putting them up. Will usually took that role, which might have been for the better because the first night Mike tried to put dishes away, the cabinets had been a mess, and you couldn’t take out one thing without having to take out everything.
They had been living in their apartment for a little over four months now, and Mike cherished their apartment and routines that fused together most days. They usually always had breakfast together, unless one had class or a job to get to. They also had dinner together, of course, and Mike had picked up the art that was cooking. Turns out, while Joyce might have skipped Jonathan with her slightly poor cooking skills, it surely did not pass Will. He had tried to make something their first night at the apartment, but it came out overcooked and dry, which led the two boys to go out to the nearest restaurant to find something to eat.
Mike isn’t really sure how he managed to cook without burning anything; sure, he had made Holly food whenever he babysat her if they didn’t have leftovers, and that summer before going to college, his mother had forced him in the kitchen for a few days to learn some simple meals he could make at college because he was not going to eat a bunch of junk food every night for his first year of college if Karen Wheeler could help it. Cooking hadn’t been that hard, especially if there were recipes on the side to read off. It was quite easy, actually, and sometimes really fun when he tried something new and it came out really well.
Usually when Mike would make dinner, which was most nights because they had gotten out of their phase of only wanting takeout halfway through their second year, they would also watch a movie together. They rarely paid attention to what was on and would tell each other about their days until their plates were empty and the movie began to replay. They’d wash their dishes together too, which would always lead to a shoving game. No dishes would be harmed, thankfully. Once the dishes were clean, dried, and put away, they’d part just for a bit until Mike would usually get bored in his own room and trail into Wills, who would always be working because he actually did his schoolwork on time. Mike would play with their cat, Juno, who seemed to like Will's room more like Mike did, while Will would work until he’d let out a dramatic sigh, pencil dropping on the desk, and turn around in his chair and stare Mike in the eyes and ask him if it was too late to drop out.
The first person to visit their apartment aside from Jonathan and Joyce had been El. She stayed for a couple of days after they had been there for almost a month. She had decided on her second day there that the party would have Christmas in New York, more specifically Mike and Will's apartment. Which was fine by all means. The party had already planned where they’d all stay for breaks for everything but Christmas, so it made sense. Honestly, Mike was a bit excited at the idea of spending Christmas in New York with Will. Their previous Christmas had always been cut short and never actually celebrated on Christmas because everyone had their own families to go to. Plus, it meant that they’d get to decorate their apartment together, and call him a child all you want, but Mike adored Christmas decorations. Yes, Halloween was his favorite time of the year, but his mother never actually decorated for the holiday, but she did for Christmas.
Mike always liked to help put up the tree. He liked going through all the boxes of ornaments, deciding which ornaments went where on the tree. He liked fluffing out the tree too if there was a spot that looked off, even if it was in the back and no one would see it. He liked putting the star on the tip of the tree, especially if it lit up. Mike could never decide if he liked white lights or colorful lights on a Christmas tree. He liked both an even amount, and his mother had always picked white warm lights. The first time he saw a Christmas tree with colorful lights had been when he went to Dustin's house one year when they were just kids. It had been cool and pretty. When he asked his mother if they could have colorful lights one year, she just answered with a scoff and nothing further.
Mike had decided that day whenever he was an adult he’d get his own Christmas tree with colorful lights; his mother’s wishes be damned!
Which is why he’s dragging Will through a holiday store a month before December.
“Mike—Oof sorry, ma’am! Mike, slow down, you just made me hit that old lady!” A voice hisses behind him. “Christmas is still like a month away. I think they’ll still have lights then, you know!” Mike comes to a stop, not minding the fact Will bumps into with a groan. He turns on his heel, facing Will, who is rubbing his nose.
"True, but all the good lights will be gone by then! We should have been shopping for Christmas since we moved here, Will! Do you not realize how serious of a holiday this is?” Mike says. “Besides, I need to look at the trees too. And ornaments, my mom said she’d send me some, but there's no way she's gonna send the good ones.”
“I don’t think it's that serious…” Will murmurs, “It’s freezing in here. Why don’t I wait in the car while you do all this.” Mike grabs onto Will's elbow with his gloved hand before the boy could even make a move to leave.
“You can’t! We have to pick out everything together!” Mike stresses. “I cook you nice meals for you when you come home after a long day of class or work. The least you can do is shop with me for Christmas.” Will smiles sheepishly.
“Can’t help you play the role of lonely housewife so well,” Will teases. “I do enjoy coming home to warm meals.”
Mike hums, “Then I guess you’ll shop with me today if you want to keep getting those warm meals.” He threatens lightly.
Will sighs, eyes rolling. “Fine. I guess I'll stay. Lead the way, Mrs. Claus.” Mike smiles happily, letting go of Will's elbow and starts to walk again. He wants to look at trees first, so he can get an idea of where and how one will fit in their apartment. He knows already they can’t get one too big, but maybe he can find one that doesn’t look too depressingly small. “Look! A Charlie Brown Christmas tree! Let's get that!” Will points out excitedly, just to mess with Mike. Mike ignores Will as he snickers behind him.
“I can poison your food, you know. You wouldn’t even notice.” Mike says as they head down an isle. Will hums behind him.
"Yeah, yeah, if you do, make sure my last meal is those sweet muffins you made the other day. Those were delicious.” Will says. “Can we even fit a tree in the apartment? How do you plan to get one up there anyway? The elevator is broken half the time.”
“Oh my god, I have the real-life grinch next to me.” Mike huffs, “Who hurt you?” Mike asks, though clearly joking. Will shrugs as they finally make it to the trees. Mike eyes a pretty tree with fake snow and pine cones. His fingers grasp the tree for a feel, and after a minute, his hand drops with a sigh. “Not this. Definitely not.”
Will snorts, “What, not good enough for the Christmas tree whisperer?” Mike throws Will a playful glare.
"Well, unless you want to clean up the mess of fake snow and have it all over you forever like glitter, then I guess we can get it.” Mike says with a snap in his voice. Will giggles, eyes wide.
“Oh my god, you don’t wanna know how much you look like your mother right now.” Will shakes his head as he laughs. Mike rolls his eyes and heads over to another tree. For the next couple of minutes, they two pass from tree to tree. Mike makes sure to touch the trees to make sure they aren’t too cheap. He makes sure there are enough branches and leaves no space in between that makes the tree look weird. He checks to see if the branches are easy or too hard to bend. He checks each tree thoroughly until he finds the perfect one.
Will wanders off, though not too far, to look on his own. He doesn’t look at the trees as intensely as Mike does and mostly looks at the tree pre-decorated. After awhile, he makes his way back to Mike and nudges his softly with his shoulder to let Mike know he’s back. Mike glances at him with a sweet smile before his eyes land back on the tree he stands in front of.
“What about this one?” Mike asks. Will looks at the tree and is silent for a moment.
Really, it looks like every other tree in this place. It’s not decorated at all, unlike most others. It has no lights or ornaments. It stands bare as it awaits for someone to stroll along and decorate it with love and care in a warm home filled with cheery smiles and angelic laughs.
Will looks away from the tree and to Mike.
Mike has a smile on his lips as he stares at the tree. He looks lost in thought, like he’s already imagining what the tree will look like decorated.
Will smiles. “Yeah. I like it. It’s pretty.”
Mike turns to look at Will, beaming. “Great! I think it's pretty too. The price isn’t too bad either!” He says happily. Will nods. “Come on, the box should be over here.” The two head to an area behind the trees and find a large shelf with many boxes of trees. Thankfully Mike can tell what tree is which, because now in a box with a tiny picture, they really do all look the same to Will. After his eyes scan the boxes for a moment, Mike finds the one he wants. “Aha! Right here!”
The box is thankfully not anywhere too high, but high enough that Mike has to reach above himself to grab it. Though it is crammed in between two other boxes that he tugs the box with a slight struggle. Will moves to help, but even that doesn’t do much. “Jesus, why’d they shove it in here like this? How are you supposed to even get it out?” Will huffs with annoyance.
“I think we’ve got it,” Mike says, and then, “Shit!”
Due to the tugging from both boys, the box slides out much faster than either expected. It slips right through their fingers and lands with a loud thud. A few people look their way, which Will shrinks at with embarrassment. Mike pays no attention, however, too focused on his gloved hand.
“You okay?” Will asks as Mike frowns. Mike looks up at him, nodding.
“Yeah. My glove ripped though.” Mike flips his hand around to show Will, and sure enough, it is ripped. Right down the middle, leaving his once warm gloved hand exposed to the cold. Mike's frown grows bigger as he turns his hand back to himself and sees the rip again. “Damnit. I really liked these gloves…” He mumbles to himself, though Will still hears it.
The statement was nothing new to Will. He knew those were Mike's favorite gloves. They had been Mike's favorite since Nancy gifted them to him their first Christmas after he graduated high school. It was the only pair he wore, even though he had many others lying around. They were black gloves with a white fuzz layer that wrapped around the wrist. His initials were embroidered into each glove in beautiful and elegant curves. They were soft inside and out. Will knew this from the one time he wore them on a quick trip outside to throw away trash before it was too late. They were the warmest pair of gloves he had ever worn from that one time, so Will understood Mike's sudden change in attitude.
Before Will could make any kind of comment to cheer Mike up, the boy was taking the glove off with a sad little sigh. He stuffed the glove in his coat pocket and looked at Will. “Well, today is going lovely.”
Will gave an apologetic smile, “Sorry. Maybe Nancy can get some new ones." He tried.
“It’s fine.” Though the look on his face says, it's not fine. Im going to be in a mood about this for the rest of the day. "Oh, I forgot. We’ll need a cart to get this out of here. Unless you wanna carry it to the car?
Will chuckles and shakes his head. “Definitely not. Where are the carts? I’ll go get one.” He offers.
“Uh.. There are some by the entrance, but that’s a little far. They have some in the garden area; that’s right down the left, I think.” Mike tells him. Will nods.
“Okay, be right back!” And with that, Will turns on his heel and leaves to get a cart. As Mike waits for Will to return, he can’t help the frown that appears on his face again as he shoves his ungloved hand into his pocket, where his ripped glove rests. He twists the ripped glove between his fingers. It is freezing in this store. He must not have noticed when wearing his gloves. They must have trapped all the heat in his hands that he couldn’t notice.
When Will returns with a cart, Mike lets go of the glove in his pocket and begins to lift the box up into the cart. Will pushes the cart the rest of the way to the checkout. As they stand in line, Mike can't help but flex his fingers just a little. The cold is getting to him now, and this line seems to be frozen just like his fingers. "Jesus, you weren’t kidding; it is freezing in here.” Mike mutters as he fingers his fingers towards his mouth. He lets out a huff of air, hoping that will warm his fingers up, but it doesn’t do much.
Will, who had been picking up and looking at the useless items no one needs but stores leave out right next to the check in hopes you’ll spend a few extra dollars, turns his head to look at him. “Do you want my gloves?” He offers. Mike shakes his head.
“No, no, it's fine. I don’t want you to be cold.” Mike says as he shakes his head and puts his hand down.
“Are you sure? I don’t mind.” Will says. “We’re almost out of here. I’ll be fine without them for a couple of minutes.”
Mike shakes his head again. “It’s fine. Seriously. I’m just being dramatic.”
Will smirks, “Your words, not mine.”
“Ha, Ha.” Mike rolls his eyes. The conversation ends there, and they move further into the line and, thankfully, are able to purchase their tree and leave.
They aren’t parked that far, but many cars come and go as they walk, and there are few crowds of people leaving the store and heading their way in. Mike shivers as he steps outside in the harsh, freezing wind. He cant help the groan that leaves his mouth as the wind whips through him.
“What the fuck!” He hisses, “It was not this bad when we came in.”
“Definitely not,” Will agrees. “Come on, that car is blocking the way. We’ll have to go around.” This, unfortunately, means it’ll be a little more of a walk to the car. Mike lets a shiver flow through him as he nods and follows Will. His teeth chatter during their walk, and he really isn’t trying to be dramatic; he was just joking inside, but the freezing, whipping wind makes his fingers sting, and he can’t help but bring his hand back up to his mouth. Will notices the motion immediately.
“Mike, you can take my gloves; I don’t care.”
“Its fine.”
“Mike.”
“Will.”
The boy lets out a loud huff, coming to a stop, which is very rude, Mike thinks. They’re almost to his car! Almost to a nice heater he can put his hands over!
“Your so stubborn,” Will says with a little glare. “Here.” Mike is about to protest as one of Will's hands begins to move. He is fine, seriously. He doesn’t need Will's gloves; he’s just being dramatic like usual. So he definitely doesn’t need Will's gloves; he just needs to hurry and get to his car, so turn the heat all the way up and let his hand hover over the air vent.
But Will never takes his gloves off. His hands stay covered in his pretty, colorful knitted gloves. Instead, Will's gloved hand reached out towards Mike's ungloved one. His hand grasps Mikes, fingers interlacing without a second thought, and he brings Mikes hand towards his coat pocket. It’s nice. Warm.
Mike has never felt more frozen in his entire life.
“Better?” Will asks with a raised eyebrow.
Mike, who has suddenly lost the ability to utter any sound, nods. His eyes do not meet Wills. They are glued to where his hand hides. Where his hand burns from the sudden amount of warmth. The heat is so intense, Mike wonders if he’ll melt right here in some random parking lot.
“Good.” Mike hears Will say. He feels his hand being squeezed, and thankfully that is enough to get his feet moving again.
Oh, Mike thinks as they get closer to the car. Mike struggles to remember to fish out the keys from his back pocket so he can unlock the trunk. Thankfully the pocket is by his free hand. Thankfully. Luckily.
Mike unlocks the car with shaky hands. The warmth from his once-cold fingers starts to slip away. Oh god..
The cold barely gets to bite Mike's fingers again. Once the box is in the trunk, Will runs to put the cart away, and Mike hurries to start the car. Will returns back in just a few seconds with a loud chatter from his teeth. “Its so cold out there; did you turn the heat on?”
“Yes..” Mike says slowly. Quietly.
Will hums. He reaches out towards Mike's ungloved hand again, pulling it towards his lap, and cups Mike's long, slender fingers between his gloved hands. “Okay.” Will says, leaning back in his seat. He flashes Mike a smile, so soft. So sweet. “Ready to go?”
Mike nods, turning his eyes from Will as he lets his foot off the break.
His fingers tingle, not from the warmth but from the way Will runs his thumb against the back of his hand. Slow and delicate. It might as well leave a burn mark against his skin.
Will Byers is holding my hand. Mike thinks. He’s holding my hand, and I’m in love with him.
Shit.