Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The only sound in the dim, warm room was the soft, synced rhythm of their breathing. The lamp on Mike’s nightstand was dialed down to its lowest setting, casting long, dancing shadows across the walls and painting their skin in hues of gold and amber.

Mike leaned back against the headboard, his skin cool against the worn wood. El was settled in the cradle of his lap, her legs wrapped around his waist, her chest pressed flush against his, the steady, strong beat of his heart a drum against her own. Her arms were looped around his neck, her fingers occasionally tracing the fine hairs at his nape.

They were skin to skin, the fine sheen of sweat from their earlier passion cooling now into a gentle, intimate dampness. Mike had the house alone, so they got advantage of that.

His hands were in constant, gentle motion, one splayed wide on the small of her back, holding her firmly to him as if she might dissolve into air, the other tracing lazy, nonsensical patterns up and down the graceful curve of her spine. Her own fingers played with the damp curls at the nape of his neck, occasionally drifting down to skim over the slope of his shoulders.

His eyes, dark and wide, were locked on hers. He didn’t blink, afraid that even that momentary darkness might steal a detail. He was drinking her in, trying to brand this image onto his soul: the way the soft light gilded the edges of her curls, still damp at the tips from the sweat of their lovemaking; the faint, silvery lines of old scars that he now knew by touch as well as by sight.

Her own gaze was just as intense, just as devoted. Her right hand cradled his jaw, her thumb stroking the line of his cheekbone with a delicacy that made him shudder. Her other hand was a gentle explorer, mapping the familiar yet newly fascinating landscape of his face. She traced the arch of his eyebrows, the stubborn set of his jaw, the bow of his upper lip, his freckles. Her fingertips whispered over his eyelids, and he closed them for a moment, feeling the sensation magnified a thousand times in the darkness. When he opened them again, her eyes were waiting.

After a small eternity of this silent worship, the corners of her mouth lifted. It was a small, private smile, one that started in her eyes and slowly bloomed across her entire face. Mike felt an answering smile spread across his own, an involuntary reflex to her joy.

Then, a sound. A soft, breathy giggle escaped her lips, a sound so purely happy it seemed to make the very air in the room sparkle.

Mike’s smile grew wider, a real, unguarded grin that crinkled the corners of his eyes. “What?” he whispered, his voice husky from disuse and emotion.

El’s gaze dropped to his mouth for a second before returning to his eyes. “I just like the way you look at me.”

His heart, which had been beating a steady, contented rhythm against her chest, gave a hard, painful thump. The smile on his face softened into something more vulnerable, more raw.

“I can’t help it,” he admitted, his voice barely audible. He brought one hand up from the small of her back to cradle her cheek, his thumb stroking the high apple of it with a reverence that made her want to weep. “I just… I need to memorize you like this.”

Her eyes fluttered open a little wider. “Like what?”

“Like this,” he said, his gaze sweeping over every detail of her face as if he were describing a masterpiece. “Happy. Safe. Here. With me.” He swallowed, the motion a visible tremor in his throat. “I don’t ever want to forget a single second of this. Of you, right now.”

He saw her eyes glisten, and for a terrifying second, he thought he’d made her sad. But then she spoke, her voice clear and certain.

“I am happy, Mike,” she said. The words were simple, profound, and utterly true.

He smiled, a little watery himself. “Yeah?”

“I am really happy,” she emphasized, her voice gaining strength, filled with a wonder that echoed his own.

The words felt inadequate, a clumsy tool to describe the universe of feeling inside her chest. And so, words failed her. Instead, she surged forward, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck and burying her face in the crook where his shoulder met his neck.

He immediately enveloped her, his arms strong and sure around her back, holding her as if he could physically fuse her to him. He turned his face into her hair, pressing a long, desperate kiss to her temple.

They stayed like that for a long time, just breathing each other in. His breath stirred the fine hairs at her temple; hers was a warm caress on his skin. In that embrace, two years of separation, of frantic searching, of sleepless nights and choked-back sobs, collapsed into nothing. There was no past of empty beds and silent walkie-talkies, no frightening future of unknown threats. There was only the perfect, breathtaking present. The solid weight of her in his arms. The proof.

Slowly, as if by unspoken agreement, they relaxed back into their previous position, but the embrace had shifted something, deepened the connection even further. The silent mapping resumed, their hands speaking the language their words sometimes struggled with.

El rested her palms flat on his chest, feeling the frantic, galloping rhythm of his heart against her skin. It was beating so fast, a wild, joyful drum.

“It’s fast,” she murmured, her voice a husky whisper in the quiet room.

Mike let out a soft, self-conscious chuckle. “Yeah, well,” he breathed, covering her hand with his own, pressing it more firmly against his heart. “You do that to me. You’ve always done that to me.”

El’s smile returned, brighter this time. She leaned in and captured his lips with hers in a kiss that was not about hunger, but about affirmation. It was soft, and slow, and tasting of shared breath and unspoken promises. It deepened for a moment, a spark of the earlier passion flickering to life, but they pulled back, not ready to leave this quiet, vulnerable time just yet.

Mike’s eyes roamed over her face, down the column of her throat, over the graceful slope of her shoulders, and along the curves of her body settled in his lap. His hands followed his gaze, sliding from her back to her sides, his thumbs stroking the delicate dip of her waist, the gentle flare of her hips. He looked at her as if she were the first sunrise after a long, polar night.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered, the words falling from his lips like a prayer.

A faint blush rose on her cheeks, but she didn’t look away. She held his gaze, letting him see her, all of her.

He shook his head slightly, as if struggling to comprehend it. “I feel like… I feel like I’m holding the whole world right now.” His voice was thick with emotion. He looked directly into her eyes, his own blazing with a fierce, undeniable truth. “You are my whole world, El.”

He took a shaky breath, his hands tightening on her hips, his expression turning earnest, determined. “I want to give you the world. I’m going to give you the world. A normal life. Dumb, boring, perfect days. Everything you ever missed. Everything you deserve.”

El’s heart swelled until she thought it might burst. She framed his face with her hands, forcing him to see the truth in her own eyes. “Mike,” she said, her voice firm and gentle. “You don’t have to give me anything.”

“But I want to,” he insisted, his passion bleeding into his words. “You deserve every good thing. Ice cream for breakfast, and stupid movies, trips to anywhere you want, and a stupid little house with a stupidly perfect picket fence. You deserve all of it. After everything…” His voice cracked. “After everything you’ve given everyone else. You deserve to just get things. To just be happy.”

Tears finally spilled over onto her cheeks, but she was still smiling. “You already gave me everything,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. “You gave me my name. You gave me your coat. You gave me a home. You gave me… you.” She pressed her forehead against his, closing her eyes, their breath mingling. “You are my everything. That is enough. This is enough. You are enough.”

They stayed like that, foreheads pressed together, for a long time. The world outside, Hawkins with its secrets and its scars, didn’t exist. There was only this.

When Mike finally pulled back, his eyes were searching hers again, but a shadow had passed over them. The undeniable joy was still there, but it was now tinged with a fear so profound it made his hands tremble where they rested on her.

“I still can’t believe you’re here,” he whispered, and the tone was different now. It wasn’t wonderment; it was the fragile voice of a boy who had been broken by loss.

He didn’t say the other part. He didn’t have to. El had heard it before, in the dead of night when he’d woken from a nightmare, clutching her so tightly it almost hurt. “I'm so scared I'm going to close my eyes and you'll be gone. I'm scared you are just a dream my mind made up because it can't handle you being gone.”

She knew. She understood that fear because it lived inside her, too—the fear of waking up back in the cold, sterile silence of the lab, of finding that this warmth, this love, was just a fantasy her tortured mind had concocted.

She didn’t offer him empty words. Instead, she took his right hand in hers. She brought it up, pressing his palm flat against her chest, right over her heart. A strong, steady, living rhythm against his skin.

With her other hand, she cupped his cheek, her thumb wiping away a tear he hadn’t even felt escape.

“I am right here,” she said, each word a solid, tangible thing. “Feel me. I am right here.”

The dam broke then. Mike’s face crumpled. A sob tore from his throat, raw and aching. He tried to turn his head away, ashamed of the strength of his emotion, but she held him fast, her gaze unwavering.

“Don’t leave again,” he choked out, the words ragged and desperate. He looked back at her, his eyes pleading, all his defenses gone, leaving just the raw, terrified core of him. “Please.” It was a single syllable, broken and small, a child’s prayer in the dark.

The sound of it shattered her. Her own tears fell freely now, but her voice was steady.

“I won’t,” she vowed, leaning in until their noses brushed. “I am not going anywhere.”

“Promise,” he begged, his voice cracking on the word.

“Promise,” she said without a moment’s hesitation. She sealed it with a kiss, soft and lingering against his lips. “I promise, Mike. I’m home.”

He collapsed into her then, his body shaking with the force of his relief, his face buried in her neck. She held him, one hand in his hair, the other still pressing his hand to her heart, letting him feel the undeniable, physical proof of her promise. She rocked him gently, whispering soothing sounds into his ear, until his sobs subsided into shaky breaths, and then into a deep, calm stillness.

He finally lifted his head, his eyes red-rimmed but clear. He looked at her—really looked at her—and the love in his gaze was so immense, so all-encompassing, that El felt her breath catch.

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. He simply leaned forward and kissed her again. The lamp on the bedside table flickered once.

Mike’s hands began to move again, his touch now infused with a new certainty, a new peace. He traced the shell of her ear, the line of her jaw, the pulse beating steadily at the base of her throat.

He worshipped her not as a fragile thing to be protected, but as a force of nature he was humbled and honored to stand beside.

El’s explorations became bolder, too. She slid her hands over his shoulders. She traced the bumps of his ribs, the flat plane of his stomach.

The air between them began to shift once more, the tender embers of their earlier passion gently stoked back to life by the slow, deliberate dance of their hands. There was no frantic urgency, only a deep, swelling wave of connection. A silent question asked with a look, and answered with a slow, trusting nod.

He lowered her onto the sheets, never breaking eye contact. The world outside was still dark, still silent. And as the first pale light of dawn began to blush at the edges of the window blinds, Mike finally let his eyes close, sleep pulling him under.

He could feel the solid weight of her in his arms, the steady whisper of her breath against his neck. He held her, and he knew.. She was here. And she was home.

Chapter Text

They were lying face to face on his bed, nestled deep under a familiar comforter. Their heads shared the same pillow, so close that Mike could feel the faint whisper of El’s exhalations against his lips. Neither of them spoke. They just looked at each other.

Mike’s gaze was a physical thing, a gentle, searching touch that traced every detail of her face in the dim light. He saw the way the shadows pooled in the hollow of her temples, the silvered highlight along the curve of her cheekbone, the dark, fathomless depth of her pupils. Her eyes, wide and calm, held his with an unwavering steadiness that both grounded him and made his heart feel too large for his chest.

His hand, resting on the pillow between them, lifted slowly. His fingers, hesitant at first, then with more certainty, began to trace her face. He started at her hairline, following the soft sweep of her brow, learning the delicate curve of her eyelid with a touch so light it was barely there.

El didn’t move. She simply let him explore, her own eyes fluttering closed for a moment as she absorbed the sensation. A small, contented sigh escaped her. When her eyes opened again, they were shining with a love so profound it made his throat tighten.

His thumb brushed over the tiny, almost invisible scar above her eyebrow. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to it, a silent, lingering kiss

When he pulled back, the words came out of him in a hushed, raw whisper, stripped of all pretense, born directly from the vulnerable core the darkness and her proximity had unlocked.

“I don’t ever want to be away from you,” he breathed. The statement was simple, childish in its absoluteness, but it carried the weight of every goodbye they’d ever been forced to endure.

El’s smile was a soft, gentle curve in the semi-darkness. She brought her hand up to cover his, pressing his palm more firmly against her cheek. “You won’t. Ipromise” she said, her voice a low, reassuring hum.

But Mike shook his head, a tiny, frantic movement. The blissful peace of the moment cracked, allowing a sliver of his deep-seated fear to seep through. “You don’t know that,” he insisted, his voice gaining a slight, desperate edge. “You can’t promise that. No one can. Things… things happen. Things always happen to us.”

“Mike,” she said, her tone gentle but firm. She shifted closer, eliminating the last inch of space between them, their foreheads touching. Her breath mingled with his. “Let’s not worry about that right now. Please.”

He started to protest, to list the countless ways the universe had tried to tear them apart, but she pressed a single finger to his lips.

“Shhh,” she whispered. “Let’s just… enjoy the right now. This.” She emphasized her point by nuzzling her nose against his, a gesture so tender and intimate it shattered his rising anxiety.

He let out a long, shuddering breath, the fight draining out of him. She was right. What was the point of poisoning this perfect, stolen moment with fears of a future they couldn’t control? He had spent so much of his life braced for impact, waiting for the next catastrophe. But here, now, with her warm and solid in his arms, there was no disaster. There was only her.

He nodded, a slow, reluctant surrender. “Okay,” he whispered against her skin.

He closed the small gap until their foreheads were touching. He needed the physical connection, the proof. For a few minutes, they just breathed together, sharing the same air, the warmth of their skin mingling. The panic receded, soothed by her presence.

He looked at her, this girl who had fallen from the sky into his life, who had rewritten his entire understanding of the universe, and the words began to spill out of him, quiet, fervent, and utterly sincere.

“You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, El,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “Do you know that? The absolute, best thing.”

He didn’t wait for an answer. He was on a journey now, determined to map the entire constellation of his love for her.

“Before you, my life was… black and white. It was fine. It was normal. But it had no… color. No meaning.” His fingers threaded through her hair.

He swallowed, his thumb stroking her cheekbone. “And then… there you were. In the rain. With your shaved head and your big, scared eyes and this… this quiet power that I didn’t understand. You were a supernova that had just dropped into my basement.”

A soft, tearful laugh escaped El. She blinked, and a single tear escaped, tracing a silver path down her temple and into the pillow.

Mike wiped it away with his thumb. “You changed everything,” he whispered, his own vision blurring. “You made the world feel big and terrifying and beautiful all at once. You gave me a reason to be brave. Not pretend brave, like in a game. Really, truly brave. Because I had something… someone… to be brave for.”

El’s eyes welled up, but she didn’t interrupt. She just listened, her heart swelling until she felt it might burst.

“My life doesn’t have meaning without you,” he continued, the confession raw and unvarnished. “I’m not just saying that. I’m not being dramatic. All those times you had been gone I went to school, I ate, I slept, I breathed, but I wasn’t alive. Because you are my life, El. You’re the blood in my veins and the air in my lungs. You’re the reason I get up in the morning. You’re the thought that lets me fall asleep at night.”

He was crying now, silent tears that made paths through the faint stubble on his cheeks. But he didn’t seem to notice.

“You are all I could ever ask for. Everything. You’re my best friend. You’re the person I want to tell everything to, the stupid jokes and the big fears. You’re the bravest person I’ve ever met. You’re the strongest. You have this… this light inside you that all the darkness in the world couldn’t put out.” He let out a wet, shaky laugh. “God, you’re even the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. It’s not even fair. Sometimes I look at you and it actually hurts, because how can someone so perfect be real? How can you be mine?”

He leaned in and kissed her, a salty, tear-stained kiss that was more a seal on his words than anything of passion.

“You are my past,” he whispered against her lips. “You are my present. And you are my entire future. Every dream I have, you’re in it. Every plan I make, you’re the center of it. A house, a job, a life… it’s all just a setting for you.”

He was pouring out his soul, holding nothing back. The vulnerability was terrifying and liberating.

“You saved me, El. Not just from monsters. You saved me from a life that didn’t matter. You taught me what love is. Real love. The kind that’s messy and scary and hurts so much sometimes, but it’s the only thing that’s worth anything. The kind of love you would wait a hundred years for. The kind of love you would walk through fire for. The kind of love you would die for.”

El finally brought her hand up to his cheek, wiping his tears with her thumb. Her own tears were flowing freely now, dripping onto the pillow between them.

“Mike…” she breathed, her voice choked.

“No, let me finish,” he pleaded softly. “I need you to hear this. I need you to know. You are my everything. You are the sun in my sky and the ground under my feet. You are the first thought in my mind when I wake and the last before I sleep. My heart doesn’t beat for me; it beats for you. It has your name written on it. It always has.”

He took a deep, shuddering breath, his gaze so intense it felt like he was looking directly into her soul.

“I am yours, El Hopper. Completely. Forever. There is no version of my life, in this universe or any other, where I don’t belong to you.”

The finality of his statement hung in the air, a vow more binding than any ceremony could ever be.

For a long moment, El was silent, overwhelmed by the tidal wave of his devotion. She leaned forward and kissed him again, a deep, slow, consuming kiss that tried to convey everything she couldn’t put into words. When she pulled back, she rested her forehead against his, her eyes closed.

“You talk too much, Mike Wheeler,” she whispered, a tearful, joyous laugh escaping her.

He let out a wet chuckle, his body relaxing. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Do not be sorry,” she said, opening her eyes. They were shining in the moonlight, full of a love that mirrored his own. “You are my best thing, too. You are my first friend. My only love.”

She placed her hand back over his heart, feeling its strong, steady beat. “This heart… it is my home. And I am not going anywhere. I will fight every monster, I will close every gate, I will wait a hundred years… to come back to this. To you.”

It was her turn to make a vow. And she did.

“I am yours, too, Mike Wheeler. Completely. Forever.”

His tears had slowed to a stop, leaving his skin damp and his eyes red-rimmed, but clearer than she had seen them in a long time.

She leaned in and began to kiss the tear tracks on his face, each press of her lips a gentle erasure of a moment of pain. She kissed his eyelids, his temples, the corner of his mouth where a tremor still lingered. It was a silent litany of her own devotion, a physical promise in response to his verbal one.

When she finally settled back onto the pillow, their faces were so close their noses brushed. The storm of emotion had passed, leaving behind a quiet, shimmering aftermath.

He let out a long, shuddering sigh, his body finally going limp with exhaustion and relief. He shifted, pulling her more firmly against him until she was half-draped over his chest, her head nestled in the hollow of his shoulder. His arms wrapped around her, one hand stroking her back in slow, lazy circles.

For a long time, they just lay there in the quiet, listening to the syncopated rhythm of their heartbeats slowly finding a shared tempo. The digital clock on his bedside table clicked from 1:17 to 1:18 AM.

Then, Mike broke the silence, his voice a soft, contented rumble beneath her ear.

“I love you, El.”

The words were simple now, stripped of their earlier desperation, but they were no less powerful. They were a fact.

El closed her eyes, savoring the vibration of his voice through his chest. She tilted her head up to look at him. “I love you, Mike.”

He smiled, a real, easy smile that reached his eyes and made them crinkle at the corners. He leaned down and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to her forehead. “I love you,” he whispered again, as if trying out the sound of it in this new, peaceful context.

A happy, bubbling feeling rose in El’s chest. She giggled, a soft, breathy sound. “I love you, too.”

His smile widened. He kissed the tip of her nose. “I love you.”

She giggled again, nuzzling her face against his neck. “I love you.”

It became a game, then. A soft, whispered litany in the dark. A gentle volley of the three words that contained their entire world.

“I love you,” he murmured into her hair.

“I love you,” she whispered against his skin, planting a small kiss on his collarbone.

“I love you.” His hand swept up her back and cupped the back of her head.

“I love you.” She shifted, rising up to meet his lips for a quick, sweet kiss.

They were both smiling now, their faces illuminated by a joy so pure it felt like a secret they had discovered.

“I love you,” he whispered, his voice laced with a giddy wonder.

“I love you,” she echoed, her own voice singing with it.

He rolled onto his side, facing her again, his expression one of mock seriousness. “Just so we’re absolutely, one hundred percent clear… I love you.”

El let out a full-throated laugh this time, the sound like bells in the quiet room. She reached out and booped him gently on the nose. “I. Love. You.”

He captured her hand, kissing each of her fingertips. “I love you.” A kiss to her thumb. “I love you.” A kiss to her index finger. “I love you.” Her middle finger. “I love you.” Her ring finger. He lingered there for a moment, his eyes meeting hers, and a fresh, powerful wave of emotion passed between them, unspoken but understood. “I love you.” He finished with her pinky.

Tears were in her eyes again, but they were tears of incandescent joy. “I love you, Mike Wheeler. I love you, I love you, I love you.”

He surged forward and kissed her, a deep, smiling kiss that tasted of salt and strawberries and infinite promise. When they broke apart, they were both breathless and laughing, their foreheads pressed together.

“I love you,” he breathed, the words a sigh of pure contentment.

“I love you,” she sighed back.

They whispered it back and forth, a dozen more times, until the words began to slur with sleepiness.

“Iloveyou…” Mike mumbled, his eyes fluttering closed.

“Mm-hmm… iloveyoutoo…” El whispered, snuggling deeper into his embrace.

His arms tightened around her one last time, a secure, final anchor. “Love you… so much…”

“Love… you… more…” she managed to get out, before the warm, heavy pull of sleep finally claimed her.