Happy Birth to Mike! and a tiny (almost 2k) ficlet to celebrate :D
The apartment was darker and colder than usual. Or at least it felt like it at the moment: Mike sitting at his tiny kitchen table, barely big enough to fit two plates, and one single ray of sunshine reflecting on the picture frame placed on a table near the front door.
The picture was one of the Party, taken one day after graduation in the Byers’ new home in Hawkins.
Mike stared at it for a long moment, not even able to make out the faces from the distance but knowing exactly what it looked like anyway. He liked to look at it whenever he left the house or came back home. It was nice to know that the five most important people in his life were only a phone call away.
The phone had rung a total of three times today, which was more and less than Mike expected at the same time.
Joyce’s call just before she had been off to work in the morning had been a nice surprise. Even Hopper’s grumbling in the background, most likely still half asleep and craving his coffee, had only made Mike smile and then laugh when Joyce joked about Hopper loving his morning coffee more than her.
Nancy calling was always fifty/fifty. There had been last year when she had been drowned in paperwork the entire week and only remembered a month later that she completely missed the date. She had come to visit him as an apology, even though Mike had told her it was fine. This time she called, as usual during entirely unpredictable times like four in the morning, while being incredibly hurried and letting him know that there will be mail coming sometime this week, let’s hope they don’t lose it again.
His mother had called sometime around lunch when Mike had been at work. She left a nice message on the answering machine, hoping he has a wonderful day and telling him about her women’s club meeting in the afternoon and who knows how long it will take this time, Dorothy knows how to talk the whole night if she wants to which was a subtle way of telling him that he won’t catch her if he called back. He did anyway and got Holly on the phone. She had been all too excited to talk to him, and he made a mental note to call more often if only to hear all about the newest elementary school gossip.
It seemed that his mother had kept her promise of not giving his number to any other relatives that might attack his phone line and would expect him to act polite while they talked about their problems and made underhanded jabs at him when they forgot that they were talking to him and not his mother. Not even good old Loren managed to get through, notorious for stealing at least two hours of your precious time and calling every five minutes until you picked up because she forgot to tell you about my neighbor’s dog, Henry, do you remember Henry?
Five other calls had arrived sporadically throughout the last month, all disappointing to various degrees but all equally dampening his mood.
The first had been Max. Since Mike couldn’t come to Hawkins like he had done the previous two years and her mother had just suffered a minor health scare, she wouldn’t be able to make the trip. Mike told her it was fine and that he hoped her mom was going to make a quick recovery and used the opportunity to open a bottle of wine a few hours after their call.
Lucas had been next, quite predictably, because he had decided to be the amazing person that he is, and went home to see his parents to subtly support Max and her mother. He wasn’t subtle at all but Mike was sure Lucas was well aware of the fact without his input.
Dustin had followed only a few days after Lucas, talking about this big project his favorite teacher had offered him and how it was an opportunity he couldn’t miss. Mike told him that he understood and wished him good luck which Dustin won't need anyway.
El hadn’t quite mentioned a reason when she called, only that she was really sorry and would try to make up for it the next time they saw each other. Then she wished him a good time with Will and hung up before Mike could ask any questions.
Will had told him last week even though Mike visited him for his birthday two weeks ago. Apparently, some big art project would keep him in New York for the near future. When he talked about it, Mike had been so proud of him because it sounded like a really big deal and Will had sounded nervous about it, like he usually got about his art. Mike would have felt awful to even consider asking him to come anyway, even though Will asked and made it quite clear that he would drop everything, you just have to say a word, Mike. Promise you’re not just saying it? Are you sure? Ok, I still really wish I could come. See you as soon as possible.
Mike’s eyes wandered from the framed picture back toward the table and the bowl of cereal in front of him. At this point, it was soggy and looked entirely unappetizing. Somehow, cereal only tasted good in the morning. It was too sweet and slimy any other time of day, especially if the cereal-milk ratio was completely out of order because of Mike’s embarrassingly empty fridge and pantry. One would think that with a grocery store just around the corner, having a decently stocked fridge wouldn’t be that hard.
Breakfast for dinner, Mike thought to himself and chuckled at his own dumb joke. I’m pretty sure cereal usually doesn’t count as breakfast for dinner, Mike. Probably not. The thought still looped around in his head for a full minute.
In the end, Mike didn’t eat the cereal. It looked more like soup at this point anyway.
Mike had just put the freshly rinsed bowl back into the cupboard when a knock on his door made him startle bad enough that he almost threw the spoon out of the window. Which would have been less than ideal because Mike only had five spoons to begin with (don’t ask what happened to the other five; and if you do, ask Dustin) and three of them were weirdly bent out of shape.
More knocking sounded throughout the quiet apartment while Mike carefully placed the piece of cutlery onto the counter and turned toward the door. If someone knocked, it usually was one of his neighbors. Which meant it was either someone asking for eggs or flour or something of the sort, which Mike didn't even have (see exhibit a: the saddest birthday dinner known to man), or Mr. Baggins from the second floor who, despite his very awesome last name, was mostly annoying and looking for a strong young man to help me with this box I just got in the mail. I don’t even remember what I bought, ha!
Mike could live without another two-hour endeavor and endless chatting but judging by the third round of knocks it would be something he won’t be able to escape tonight.
With a sigh entirely too dramatic but warranted---because Mike already had a really exhausting day at work with lots of customers that all had something to complain about and children with extra wishes ranging from no tomatoes please to demanding he went and bought a specific brand of bottled water for them just because they didn't like the taste of anything else. Frankly, Mike thought he didn't get paid enough for this, and since all his coworkers agreed with him, he must be right---he made his way over to the door and opened it without much hesitation to just get it over with.
Instead of Mr. Baggins, who really didn’t deserve his name, Mike was greeted by five familiar faces, grinning expressions, and an assortment of snacks and drinks distributed more or less equally between all of them.
For a second, nothing happened. It was almost as if the rest of the Party didn’t expect him to open the door so soon or at all and Mike wasn’t sure what to do with the unexpected company when he had planned on accompanying a better Mr. Baggins on his quest and going to bed early.
Before Mike could question anything, his arms were full of El who squeezed the air out of his lungs, pressed a kiss against his cheek, and wished him an enthusiastic happy birthday while expertly pushing him back into his apartment and clearing the doorway for the others. There surely was an explanation why she only carried a single package of potato chips that he would be sure to hear within the next few hours.
Dustin, with his arms full enough that Mike wondered how he hadn’t left a trail of snacks in the hallway, bumped their shoulders together and echoed El’s words before following her and dumping the food onto the couch.
Lucas was sensible enough to transfer his charge onto one arm to give Mike one side hug and ruffle his hair while he was at it. Mike finally gained enough brain cells to splutter and bat his hand away, which only made Lucas laugh before he joined the other two who already managed to start bickering about the best way to arrange the snacks.
Max, cane in hand and backpack on her back, made a show out of hitting him with her cane a few times before pulling him into a tight hug. She grinned at him, told him that he was way too naïve sometimes but not to worry, they would only tease him about it for the rest of his life.
Last was Will, looking a little sheepish but highly amused while he closed the door behind him and kicked off his shoes at the entrance. He put his backpack down and pulled Mike into a hug without pausing or explaining anything.
Mike wrapped his own arms around Will, breathing in the familiar scent of his shampoo and relaxing with the boyfriend-shaped human in his arms. The confusion from earlier and disappointment of the last month gave way to a quiet calm that always accompanied Will’s comforting presence. With the Party chattering in the background, Mike couldn’t have imagined any other place he would rather be than right here in Will’s arms.
“You didn’t think we would leave you all alone on your birthday, right?” Will’s voice was muffled because his face was buried into Mike’s sweater and Mike thought it was the best sound in the world because it meant that Will was close and here and not all the way in New York.
“You were very convincing,” Mike mumbled, tightening his hold on Will and pulling him even closer. Will did the same, one hand resting at the back of Mike’s head and the other rubbing circles into his back as if he could sense the stinging in Mike’s eyes.
“Will! Stop hogging the birthday boy!” Dustin’s voice was way too loud for the thin walls of Mike’s apartment but he chuckled anyway. They pulled away and Will pressed a firm kiss to Mike’s lips.
“Happy Birthday, Mike. Love you.”
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
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