Work Text:
The quarantine in Hawkins had turned everything upside down. With the Byers unable to return home, Joyce asked Karen Wheeler for help.
And Karen, sweet as ever, had opened her doors without hesitation “Of course, Joyce. You can stay here as long as you need.”
Nancy was thrilled. Jonathan too—though he tried to hide it, of course. Sharing the same house? The same roof? The same breakfast, lunch, and dinner? It was more
than they had ever dared to ask for.
Later, when the living room was quiet, only Nancy and Jonathan stood together in front of her parents. She took a deep breath. Jonathan stiffened beside her, hands in his pockets, already anticipating disaster.
“Dad, Mom…” Nancy began, trying to sound mature. “I know this is all temporary and that the Byers family is going through a hard time, but… I wanted to suggest that Jonathan stay in my room. We’ve been dating for… So long and—”
She didn’t even finish.
Ted Wheeler lowered his newspaper for the first time in hours, as if he had just heard some cosmic absurdity.
“Absolutely not,” he said flatly. “My daughter is not sharing a bedroom with her boyfriend. Not under my roof. Never.”
Nancy felt her face burn. “Dad… for God’s sake—”
Jonathan, on the other hand, simply nodded, shrugging slightly, he understood, or at least pretended to. Ted Wheeler might not be exactly “intimidating,” but he was Nancy’s father, and Jonathan was still the boyfriend—and in his mind, boyfriends had to respect these things.
“It’s okay,” he murmured softly, just for her to hear. “Let it go.”
That only irritated Nancy even more.
She stormed out of the living room, huffing, and Karen followed immediately.
“Nancy! Nancy, wait.”
They met in the hallway, the girl’s hot temper clashing with her mother’s practiced calm.
“It’s not fair, Mom!” Nancy blurted out. “You trust me, you know I wouldn’t do anything wrong… we’ve been together forever. This is ridiculous!”
Karen took a deep breath and gently held her daughter’s hands.
“I trust you, sweetheart. And I trust Jonathan too. But we’re still a traditional family here in Hawkins. And… you know how people talk. If they found out you were sharing a room with your boyfriend, it would turn into a gossip festival. And I just… I don’t want that for you.”
Nancy rolled her eyes, frustrated, but didn’t pull her hands away.
Karen then smiled softly—that smile that always managed to soften her daughter.
“Look on the bright side,” she said. “You’ll be in the same house. You’ll see each other all day. It’s not perfect, I know. But it’s something, right?”
Nancy took a deep breath… and finally, a small smile won out over her stubbornness.
“Yeah. I guess you’re right.”
Karen squeezed her hand affectionately.
“I usually am.”
Down the hall, Jonathan appeared, looking half-lost, half-hopeful—but when he saw Nancy smiling, he relaxed a little. Even separated by doors, they’d still be together. And in the chaos of Hawkins, that was already a lot.
.・。.・゜✭・❤・✫・゜・。.
Karen went back to the living room, fixing her hair, trying to look calm. Ted still had the newspaper open, as if nothing had happened—but was clearly waiting for an update.
“So… did she calm down?” he asked, not looking up. “She must be on her period or something, she’s been pretty irritable lately…”
Karen rolled her eyes very subtly
“Everything’s fine, Ted,” she replied, with that almost superhuman maternal patience. “I talked to her. Nancy is a mature girl. Of course she understood.”
And, oh—she tilted her head slightly—“I know how to set boundaries with my children, Ted. Now you need to learn how to actually know them.”
Ted lifted the newspaper in surrender.
“What did I do this time?”
Karen just sighed.
Outside, Nancy grabbed Jonathan by the arm, almost too forcefully, pulling him toward the basement—the basement that was now the Byers’ makeshift bedroom.
“So?” Jonathan asked, still trying to keep up. “How did it go with your mom?”
Nancy crossed her arms, wearing that classic Wheeler indignation.
“Oh, same thing as my dad. ‘You can spend time together, blah blah blah, but not share a room.’” She mimicked, making a face. “But don’t worry. I have a plan.”
Jonathan raised an eyebrow… and smiled a little. That determined look of hers always did things to him—adorable, and also slightly terrifying.
“A plan?” he repeated, trying to sound casual, already expecting chaos.
“The plan,” Nancy corrected, excited. “Okay, listen: everyone goes to sleep like normal. Me in my room, Mike in his, Holly in hers, Joyce in the guest room upstairs. You and Will down here.”
Jonathan nodded, suspicious.
“So far… normal.”
“Exactly.” Her eyes sparkled. “Then a night, when everyone’s asleep, you sneak up to my room. I’ll set an alarm—quiet, just for me—and in the middle of the night, you wake up, go back to the basement, and that’s it! No one notices.”
She grinned proudly, feeling like a criminal mastermind.
Jonathan looked at her… then at the floor… then back at her.
“So… all the work is mine, basically.”
Nancy lightly smacked his arm.
“Jonathan!”
He laughed, raising his hands in surrender.
“I’m kidding. Of course I’ll do it for you.”
Nancy relaxed, her shoulders dropping, her expression softening. Jonathan stepped closer, leaned in, and kissed her forehead—gentle, affectionate, in that way that made Nancy smile without even realizing it.
She smiled. That small, intimate smile. Just for him.
They stood there, holding hands, comfortable silence filling the space between them.
And deep down, Jonathan knew: if there was anyone capable of breaking the Wheeler house rules… it was Nancy Wheeler.
Nancy Wheeler was no fool. If there was one thing she knew how to do, it was pretend.
So for the first three days, everything went perfectly normal: Jonathan slept in the awful Wheeler basement, Nancy in her own room, and they only met in the morning at breakfast with the rest of the family, as if nothing was being planned. They spent the day together, talked, laughed… and pretended they weren’t scheming.
But at the end of the third day, Nancy decided:
“Now.”
Night fell, and the house grew silent. A silence filled with expectation and teenage adrenaline.
Everyone was where they were supposed to be.
Joyce sleeping in the guest room.
Holly in her doll-filled bedroom.
Mike locked in his room, probably listening to music quietly.
Ted and Karen knocked out.
Will on a mattress on the floor.
Jonathan… sunk into the torturous basement couch.
Until finally, his watch vibrated softly—almost a metallic whisper, but enough to make his heart race.
It was time.
Jonathan got up carefully, trying not to make the couch creak (nearly impossible with that murderous piece of furniture). He took three steps… and then heard Will’s sleepy voice behind him.
“...Where are you going?”
Jonathan froze.
Then he took a deep breath.
“Don’t ask. Just sleep. Please.”
Will blinked slowly, completely confused… then turned over and murmured:
“Okay…”
Jonathan sighed in relief.
He climbed the basement stairs with all the stealth skills a teenager could manage. The living room was dark, the kitchen silent, only the distant ticking of the wall clock marking time.
He went up the main stairs, every step sounding louder than it should (probably paranoia… but still).
He stopped in front of Nancy’s door. Knocked very softly, almost symbolic and then the door opened immediately.
Nancy stood there, lit by the dim light of her bedside lamp, hair loose, wearing the smug smile of someone who thought she was the greatest strategist alive.
“Get in,” she whispered, pulling him by the arm.
He barely had time to breathe before the door was closed behind them.
Nancy locked it carefully, then turned around with a mission accomplished grin.
Jonathan thought:
She’s going to give me a heart attack one of these days.
But at the same time… totally worth it.
Nancy pulled him closer. With a gentle push, she backed him against the door, leaned in, and kissed him—soft at first, then firmer, her hands on his waist like she was finally where she’d wanted to be all along.
Jonathan cupped her face, his fingers brushing her cheeks like she was something precious.
They kissed.
And without even realizing it, Jonathan walked them both backward until they reached the edge of the bed. Nancy laughed softly against his lips as she fell onto the mattress, pulling him with her. Jonathan laughed too—that shy, amazed laugh he only ever had with her.
They kept kissing—not rushed, but with that sweet urgency of two teenagers finally stealing a moment just for themselves.
Until they ran out of air and had to stop.
They rested their foreheads together, breathing fast, trying to control their smiles… and failing miserably.
Because… this was it. They were teenagers, and in the middle of monsters, disappearances, secret governments, and the Upside Down… sometimes they forgot that. Sometimes it was just good to be a boy and a girl, in love, laughing in the dark of a stolen bedroom.
Nancy let out a quiet, conspiratorial giggle.
Jonathan brushed her face again, as if memorizing that moment was necessary to survive the chaos of Hawkins.
They looked away at the same time… then laughed.
A soft, almost whispered laugh.
That “I get you,” “I love you” kind of laugh.
Jonathan pressed a kiss to her forehead and murmured, so only she could hear:
“Nancy Wheeler, you’re amazing. I love you.”
Nancy smiled so wide it felt like it lit up the whole room.
She held his hands against her waist and replied:
“Jonathan Byers, I love you.”
She kissed him again—short, sweet, full of promise.
After that, they just… cuddled.
Nancy rested her head on his chest. Jonathan wrapped an arm around her.
Soft moonlight filtered through the window, outlining them in the calm shadows.
And for the first time in a long while, in the middle of chaos, fear, and the unknown…
They slept together. Peaceful and happy.
.・。.・゜✭・❤・✫・゜・。.
Nancy didn’t feel the soft warmth of the sunbeam slipping through the window. All she heard was an annoying sound—persistent, grating, like it was coming from very far away.
Until she finally blinked. And the world collapsed.
“Oh my God… the alarm!” she whispered, panicked.
She stretched out her arm, fumbled for the clock on the nightstand, slammed the button down, and silenced the blaring noise. When she looked at the time, she almost dropped it.
They had missed the first alarm, and the second.
Nancy turned to the side, urgently poking Jonathan.
“Jonathan. Jonathan! Wake up! It’s five in the morning! You were supposed to leave!”
Jonathan opened one eye, then the other, his face completely wrecked by sleep—an expression that clearly said why does the world exist this early?
“…it’s way too early for this…” he murmured.
“Jonathan, I’m serious!” Nancy whispered, nearly ripping the blanket off him. “If my mom wakes up and sees you HERE… oh my God, just get up!”
The word mom hadn’t even fully left her mouth when Jonathan sat up IMMEDIATELY, wide awake.
He started fixing his pajamas, as if that would somehow make it less obvious he’d spent the night there. He ran a hand through his hair—which only made things worse—and took a deep breath.
“Okay. Bye. I’ll see you downstairs,” he whispered, blowing her a quick kiss.
Nancy sighed, sitting on the bed.
“Okay. Go, now!”
Jonathan opened the door carefully and stepped into the hallway. He glanced both ways first—total silence. Then he started down the stairs, moving like he was on a secret mission.
He passed through the living room, then the kitchen without hearing a sound, and finally reached the steps leading to the basement. All he had to do was go down. Just that. One step.
But then—
“Jonathan?”
He froze. Turned slowly, his soul already halfway out of his body.
And there stood Karen Wheeler, holding a glass of water, wearing a robe, hair slightly messy. Her eyes blinked slowly, trying to focus.
“Everything okay, sweetheart? What are you doing awake at this hour?”
Jonathan swallowed so hard it actually hurt.
“I-I… I just went to… use the bathroom,” he replied, in the weakest voice imaginable.
Karen narrowed her eyes for half a second, suspicious.
Then she yawned, defeated by sleep.
“Oh… alright, dear,” she said, turning to head back upstairs. “Good night… or good morning, I guess…”
Jonathan almost melted with relief. He waited two full seconds—just to be sure she was really gone—then ran. Quietly, but definitely ran, to the basement. He rushed down the stairs, jumped the last step, tripped over Will’s mattress (earning a groan), and collapsed onto the couch.
He lay there, breathing hard, one hand on his forehead and thought:
Oh my God… I survived that.
.・。.・゜✭・❤・✫・゜・。.
Jonathan was finally drifting off on the uncomfortable Wheeler basement couch, trying to convince himself he’d made it through the night… when another alarm started going off.
That same irritating beep-beep-beep.
He opened one eye, exhausted.
“…I can’t take this alarm anymore…” he muttered.
Will, on the mattress beside him, shifted and slowly opened his eyes.
“Jon… we’re already late,” he said, in the voice of someone who definitely hadn’t slept enough.
“I know, I know…” Jonathan rubbed his face. “That alarm again…”
Will frowned.
“What do you mean again?”
Jonathan went quiet for half a second, realizing the mistake.
“Nothing. Nothing! Let’s just go upstairs.”
Will, still a little suspicious, just huffed and started getting up.
They went upstairs, got ready as best they could, and headed to the kitchen, where the Wheeler family’s classic morning chaos was already in full swing.
Joyce and Karen were arguing about whether the toast was burnt or not.
Mike complained about the cereal.
Ted tried (and failed)to read the newspaper in peace.
Holly played with her food.
Nancy fixed her hair, pretending complete indifference.
When Jonathan walked in, Nancy lifted her eyes and smiled at him in that way only the two of them understood.
Jonathan smiled back, trying to look casual. He sat down next to her like nothing had happened.
Breakfast went on normally… too normally.
Then Karen set her glass down on the table and looked directly at Jonathan.
“So, Jonathan…” she began, with that dangerous I’m not done with this tone. “Do you remember running into me in the hallway this morning?”
Jonathan’s blood ran cold.
So did Nancy’s.
“Uh-huh…” Jonathan answered.
Karen tilted her head slightly.
“And why did you go all the way up to the upstairs bathroom? The basement has a bathroom too, sweetheart.”
The world stopped.
Jonathan blinked.
Nancy froze.
Will almost choked on his cereal.
Jonathan opened his mouth—but nothing came out.
“Well… I… uh…” He stalled, completely trapped.
He slowly turned to look at Will and kicked him lightly under the table, practically begging with his eyes:
For the love of God, help me.
Will rolled his eyes, as if to say you’re impossible, and spoke before Jonathan could pass out from panic.
“It was… that,” he said, taking a breath. “I’d woken up and gone to the basement bathroom first. Then Jonathan needed to use it too, but I was in there. So I told him to use the upstairs one. That’s all.”
Karen narrowed her eyes for a moment—clearly suspicious—but decided it wasn’t worth the energy.
“Oh… I see,” she said at last. “Alright, dear.”
Jonathan felt his legs almost give out.
Nancy finally released the breath she’d been holding for minutes.
Will just kept eating his cereal, now wearing an expression that clearly said you owe me.
The morning chaos returned to normal: clattering dishes, flying cereal, Mike complaining, Joyce talking too fast, Ted trying to survive.
And right in the middle of it all Jonathan and Nancy exchanged a quick, complicit look of silent victory.
Whew. We made it.
And breakfast went on.
That big, messy, strange, and wonderful mix of Wheeler + Byers gathered around one table—a makeshift family, but a real one.