LittleStar14



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    “You should go back to sleep”, Mike mutters, but Will’s eyes are already flying over his face, and he is probably taking in the embarrassing number of tears, and the sweaty hair sticking onto his forehead and—

    “You’re bleeding”, Will whispers, and then, as if the realization strikes just now as he says it out loud, his voice increases in volume, but shakes harder all the more, “Mike, there’s— there’s blood pouring from your mouth.”

    Mike would have been perfectly content with never exploring the depth of his repressed feelings, if it wasn't for the deadly flowers blooming in his lungs.

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    17 Mar 2026

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    “Hi,” Mike called out faintly, without moving.

    “Jesus.” Will’s voice was relieved. His footsteps drew closer. “Why didn’t you bring your walkie? Everyone’s been—oh.” He was beside him now, silhouetted in the moonlight. “Mike.”

    “Hm?” Mike closed his eyes. He knew the face Will was making right now without having to actually see it—eyes wide, lips parted. Worried.

    Will knelt beside him in the leaves. “When’s the last time you fed?”

    “I don’t…” Mike cracked an eye open. Will was too pretty to lie to. “Yesterday afternoon, I think.”

    “Okay,” Will said. His voice was tight. “It’s gonna be okay.”

    A few moments passed. Will put the back of his hand to Mike’s forehead, and Mike leaned into the touch. This wasn’t so bad, really. He was weak, and everything ached, but at least Will was here.

    “Hey,” Will said, breaking the silence. “Feed from me.”

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    09 Feb 2026

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    “Just saying, if you’re taking another hit, you should share it with me,” Mike says, and Will slowly tilts his head, drinking in every word. “It just makes sense. Like, mathematically.”

    Will’s reddened eyes narrow, bewildered. “Mathematically?”

    “If there’s two hits left, we’d each only get one,” Mike explains. “But if we shotgunned, we’d both get two.” God, this is the best idea he’s had in ages. He should’ve stolen Will’s weed, like, months ago. “That’s like, bang for your buck. This is simple math, Will Byers. Keep up.”

    In which it’s well past midnight in New York, Will can’t sleep, and Mike feels like they barely know each other anymore.

    So, they get a little high. Mike is very normal about all of it.

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    28 Jan 2026

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    “We have a plan.” Robin says casually.

    Will straightens from the cabinet like it just shocked him. “A what?”

    “A plan,” she repeats, too casually, like they’re talking about redecorating or what to make for dinner, “A get-Will-laid-by-Mike-plan.”

    or

    Mike Wheeler has a habit of walking around Will's and his shared dorm room in nothing but a towel. A small one. Too small. And it's driving Will absolutely crazy. So when Mike and Will go over to Robin and Vickie's place one night to watch a movie. They tell Will their plan. Have Will seduce Mike, and then have him get laid by Mike.

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    24 Jan 2026

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    “You’re thinking,” Will says, skating a finger down the line of Mike’s nose, under his eye, over his cheekbone, then resting, finally, just at the corner of his lips– “about me.”

    Oh, Jesus. Mike’s throat is very, very dry. “What?”

    Will opens his eyes – slow, a little hesitant – and smiles. “You are,” he says, way, way too smug for Mike’s liking. “You’re turning red!”

    “Shut up,” Mike mutters, and Will’s smile grows. “You– I’m just nervous!”

    It should be illegal for someone to look this pleased with themselves. “Yeah?” Will says quietly, index finger still hovering at the corner of Mike’s mouth, thumb pressed gently under his chin. “I make you nervous?”

    Mike thinks Will might be psychic. (Kind of.) Will is being very irritatingly vague about the whole thing.

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    13 Jan 2026