⤷ tags: romantic, fluff, tickles if u squint, 1.5k words
⤷ summary: you think you're just a brand new girl for steve to fuck.
by then, you were long asleep in his arms. he set you down on the car seat, pulling your seatbelt on and being careful not to wake you. kissing your forehead, he whispered some words he knew you would never hear- yet he needed to spell them out for the stars to see.
“fuckin’ hell, y/n,” steve nearly cried in exasperation when he saw your familiar figure, albeit with one too many twigs tangled in your normally slick, smooth hair.
“i told you not to looking for the fuckin’ demogorgon. and what do you do?” he wringed his hands up in the air, annoyance coating his pupils. “you go looking for the fucking demogorgon.”
you rolled your eyes. “steve, i’m literally fine. i hav-”
“no!” he yelled at you, and you shrunk back, suddenly timid.
“i- fuck. i’m sorry, baby, i’m sorry,” he whispered, running a hand through his immaculate, perfect hair.
you looked up at him. through his farrah fawcett hair, you picked up on something in his eyes. something beyond his angry face- was that fear? wait, what the fuck- steve was crying. steve harrington, so unlike the nonchalant and cold demeanor of king steve- he was crying. crying because his girl had run off monster hunting.
“i can’t-” he sniffed sheepishly, hiccups laced within his shaking voice. “i can’t lose you. please don’t do this again.”
“please,” he begged again, rough hands cupping your face so tenderly you almost started breaking down with him.
“okay,” you nodded feverently, just to get him to stop.
it scared you shitless to see steve so vulnerable, so fragile. his fingers trembled around your nape and he pulled you in for a kiss, other arm wrapping around the curve of your waist. the kiss was slow, passionate, something out of a movie. his lips felt soft against yours- traces of salty tears within it and you pushed into his mouth desperately, linking your tongues in a seductive tango.
when steve kissed you- time stopped. you could feel his pulse in your veins, heartbeat growing faster and faster inside of you. when you opened your eyelids to look at him, you could’ve cried at the proximity of him, at the intimacy of it all. he was so beautiful. long, brown eyelashes coated his eyes and you wondered- how many times has steve harrington cried in his life? not for those random girls he hooked up with at parties, you hoped.
how many tiny fingers have traced up and down his biceps like you have? how many lips have touched his? how many hands have found themselves entrapped into his gel casted hair, pulling and tugging in pleasure? waves of nausea coursed through you. the next whore, you bet tommy h and carol call you. you pushed steve away. he blinked in confusion, clearly still entranced by the euphoric kiss.
your heart splintered as you turned to walk away and he grabbed your wrist, spinning you back into his grasp. a breath hitched in your throat as you pressed up against him. you could feel his bulge against your core, sending heatwaves straight through.
“what are you doing?” steve’s voice was entwined with hurt.
“i just- i just can’t.”
you couldn’t look at him. one more second of those puppy dog eyes boring into your soul would’ve made you run- not away from the heart breaking manwhore, but towards him. you were playing a dangerous game- and if you wanted to get out with your heart intact, you had to leave before it was too late.
you flung your wrist out of his hand and moved away.
“can’t what?”
you stopped. something must’ve possessed you at the moment because your lips suddenly started to quiver- a telltale sign of tears to come. fuck. sobs racked your torso and you almost collapsed to the ground. your hands frantically wiped at your eyes, desperate.
“hey, hey,” within seconds, steve had jogged up to you.
with his hand on your lower back, so gentle you could fall into his touch, he stroked your hair out of your face with his other hand, meticulously tucking it behind your ear. wet tears cascaded down your cheeks and you wanted to push steve away in embarrassment.
“talk to me, baby,” steve wrapped you into a tight embrace, and you damn near bawled into his new denim jacket- he didn’t seem to mind, only squeezing you tighter. he waited patiently for your breathing to calm, working his hands up and down your back in a soothing rhythm.
“you- you’re just fucking going to leave me.” the words left your mouth, barely a whisper, but hanging in the air.
“what?” incredulous, steve placed his fingers under your chin and lifted your head. you couldn’t look at him.
“i’m just another whore you can use to get off of and dump,” you snivelled pathetically, feeling his gaze on your snotty self. he won’t even want to fuck this mess of a person now- mascara running down your face, hair tangled.
“what?” steve echoed, sounding almost angry. “who told you that?”
“come on, steve,” you laughed, but without humour. bitterness coated your voice. “i know how this works. king steve pity fucks the new little bitch for a few months and leaves."
you finally looked up at steve. the aghast on his features was unmistakable. it was honestly impressive how offended he genuinely seemed. the creases on his forehead were evident as he furrowed his brows, nose twitching adorably- you’d be lying if you said you weren’t endeared. yet another manipulative trait.
“just fuck off, harrington.” tears blurring your vision, you turned to leave once again.
“y/n, stop.” something cracked in his voice. he held your face in the palm of his hands- somehow, you let him. your watery eyes hesitantly met his. you both started crying, just this messy symphony of anguished sobs echoing through the cold air of hawkins woods.
“i fucked those girls because- because-” steve swallowed heavily, eyes glossed over with something- something clearly affecting him to a higher level. “because i wanted to feel something. anything. my dad- he- he never let me be sentimental. i grew up feeling empty. being with those girls- they never meant anything. not like you. no matter how many of them i slept with- i went home empty. you, baby, you’ve filled me with so much i’m overwhelmed by you.”
“you’ve filled me with so much love and so much affection i don’t know how to act. i don’t-” steve’s eyes drooped almost shamefully. “i don’t know how to love. but i’m trying.”
steve’s thumb swipped across your cheekbone, taking oceans of tears with it. “baby, you’re the best person i’ve ever met. i love your hair. i love your eyes. i love your gorgeous, gorgeous face. i love how funny you are. i love how your eyes light up when you’re enthusiastic about something and i love the way you mess with my hair.
“i love you for you. i’d be lying if i said i didn’t-” steve stuttered, as if struggling to get the right words out. “i just - i really love you, baby.”
you flushed, trying hold back your smile- he couldn’t win you back that easily. but he already has. you'd go through the depths of hell and back if it meant you would still be his baby girl. you could sense the genuinity steve was speaking with- feeling it deep in your veins. steve harrington loves me, you wanted to tell the world. fuckin’ hell.
steve’s demeanor brightened at your twinkling eyes and in classic harrington style, he took the opportunity to tease. “why would i keep you around for sex anyway? you suck at giving head.”
“it was my first time, steve,” you whined, but it pulled a dopey grin on your face. “how the fuck was i supposed to not choke on it?"
"you make me feel good about myself," steve winked.
you rolled your eyes. "not everyone has a body count of the entire hawkins female population, steve."
steve gasped indignantly and you giggled, satisfied.
“hey, wanna know what else i love you for?”
oh, bless your poor, innocent soul. “what?”
steve hoisted you up by the hips, entrapping you between the tree trunk and his toned torso, easily towering over you, causing you to yelp. without warning, he wrapped his hands around your ribcage and started tickling you.
“whahat thehe fuhuck?” you immediately burst into uncharacteristic giggles, hands grabbing but never able to stop steve’s quick, methodical squeezing along your stomach.
“i just love how insanely ticklish you are, baby,” steve beamed, and you groaned through your laughter.
“i- ihi am gohoing toho muhurder you,” you seethed and attempted (and failed) to look serious.
“aww, that’s a shame. who’s going to tickle you then?”
you flushed. your enjoyment of this form of affection hadn’t gone unnoticed. steve wasn’t too mean, though, considering your energy was half sapped from running in the woods and crying your brains out. he gave a final scribble to your hips and carried you bridal style, crashing through the remainder of the woods and reveled in the familiar sight of his red beamer.
by then, you were long asleep in his arms. he set you down on the car seat, pulling your seatbelt on and being careful not to wake you. kissing your forehead, he whispered some words he knew you would never hear- yet he needed to spell them out for the stars to see.
Summary: Mike has been acting different. Will is forced to pay attention. (Takes place between s4 and s5, could be read as mwtfdydgate)
Word Count: 3,774
Warnings: This is a tickle fic
˗ˏˋ ♥︎ ˎˊ˗ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
Distracted.
Will has been on edge the whole day, pretty much as soon as he woke up.
Whenever his mind gets like this, unfocused and hopelessly lost in thought, there’s one common recurring cause.
Mike Wheeler.
Always worming his way into Will’s head with his shiny black curls, the freckles that dot his cheeks like tiny stars, or his endearingly awkward smiles.
One would think Will would get used to constantly being in Mike’s radius, seeing as their families have been sharing the same roof for months now (thanks again, Mrs. Wheeler).
But Mike was acting weird today. Or maybe he had been for a while, and Will had just forced himself not to notice any changes until it became actually impossible to do so.
Ever since returning from California, Mike and Will had returned to being, well, Mike and Will. Their mothers joked that they were attached at the hip, never apart for too long, just like when they were kids.
After a whole year of not seeing each other at all, and the weird tension between them during Mike’s spring break visit, Will welcomed the change. He really had missed being able to call Mike his best friend without feeling a nervous pang in his chest.
Until recently, and it was there again. Only this time, he wasn't sick to his stomach at the idea of Mike growing up and leaving him behind. Or consumed by a constant fear that anyone could see the way he looked at Mike, hear the way his heart sped up and his breathing quickened, and know that his feelings for the other went so far beyond a simple friendship.
This was different. Still nervous, but in a way that didn’t feel so scary.
Will felt crazy for thinking it at first, but he swears Mike has been paying extra attention to him lately. Standing just a little bit closer. Smiling a little softer. Touches lingering on the edge of what could be considered appropriate for two teen boys.
Will didn’t want to see it, but it was hard when everything Mike did made front page news in his own mind.
Today, though, it was entirely too much.
At breakfast, Mike had been up early helping Holly set the table, already a strange sight to see. When Will sat down, his chair was just slightly closer to Mike’s than usual, not enough to be noticed by the wandering eyes of their families. But it was all Will could think about.
Their knees brushed underneath the table with every little movement they made—or, that Mike made, really. It almost felt like whenever Will pulled away, trying to give them some space, Mike pushed right back, closer than he had been before.
Will wouldn’t delude himself into thinking it’d been purposeful if he hadn’t glanced over to see brown eyes staring at him over the rim of a glass of orange juice.
Later on, Will decided to spend his afternoon coloring in the living room with Holly. With no school till Monday and no news about a crawl happening anytime soon, there really wasn’t anything better to do (maybe his poetry assignment for English, but that could wait).
It had been peaceful, a quiet house except for the sound of colored pencils on paper and Holly occasionally asking for advice on color combinations.
Then Mike joined them, situating his long legs under the Wheelers’ coffee table and sitting way. Too. Close.
Their legs pressed together on the floor, much closer than they had been at breakfast. Whenever Will reached to grab a new color, the sleeve of Mike’s sweater brushed against his arm. Only three people were currently in the house, but for some reason, Mike was acting like there was no room.
He wasn’t even coloring with them, just sitting, poking fun at his little sister’s color work from across the table, but mostly just watching. Watching Will.
The obvious staring was already distracting enough, his hair standing on end and palms sweaty where he gripped the pencils. But after a few minutes of silence, he felt long fingers squeeze the top of his knee, making him jolt and knock his foot into the table leg.
Will’s face flushed as Holly innocently asked if he was okay.
“Yeah, Will?” Mike spoke from over his shoulder, the words little puffs of air against his neck, “Are you alright?”
Will turned to glare at the boy sitting next to him, only to lose all momentum when he saw the beautifully freckled face mere inches away from his. A subtle smirk on perfect, pink lips had Will turning back to the coffee table with a tiny nod, butterflies fluttering in his chest.
After dinner was the most notable offense.
Will liked to help Karen clean up the kitchen whenever he could. She was the main reason his family had a place to stay at all, so he did his best to be helpful to her.
She asked if he could finish washing the dishes for her, Holly dragging her off upstairs for some unknown but very important reason.
No one else was downstairs as he scrubbed the few remaining plates, leaving them in the dish rack to dry. Or so he thought, until he felt two hands taser his sides from behind, sending water splashing across the counter as he almost lost hold of the plate.
Of course, when he whipped around with an annoyed frown and pink cheeks, Mike was there, hands held out in front of him like he was ready to talk down an angry mob.
“In my defense,” He was grinning, not even looking the least bit sorry. “I wasn’t even trying to scare you- hey! Will!” Mike ran off with a yelp as Will threw the soggy sponge at his attacker before chasing him down with still-wet hands.
That had been a little over an hour ago. And for some reason, against his better judgment, he let Mike drag him up the stairs to his bedroom.
Mike claimed that he wanted to show Will a new comic series he had gotten a while ago, some niche superhero that had a really good story despite the lack of general interest.
Will thought that he would be reading his own comic alongside Mike, like when they read together as kids. Always choosing to be near each other, even when wanting to do different things.
For a while, that’s exactly what was happening. Will sat crisscrossed on dark blue bedsheets, resting against the wall, while Mike lounged beside him, taking up half the bed with his lanky limbs.
Apparently incapable of keeping his hands to himself today, Mike had to find some way to invade Will’s space. He sat up, sliding closer to Will and dropping his head down onto Will’s shoulder. Because in the logic of Mike Wheeler’s mind, friends made a better headrest than the pillows on his very own bed.
Will wouldn’t have even been so bothered by this had Mike’s unruly curls not been pressed flush against the side of his neck, fluffy and undoubtedly distracting. Even worse, with Mike’s tendency to fidget, never one to stay still for more than a minute at a time.
He was staring down at the comic book still in his hands, nothing but a blob of colors and shapes as he fought himself not to squirm away. Not that there was anywhere to run, Mike basically trapped him at the edge of the bed.
Another shift from the boy beside him, another flutter of soft tendrils that has him biting his lip just to keep any embarrassing noises at bay. Maybe he should just push Mike off the bed. That’d be easier than having to explain himself when he can’t hold off his reactions any longer.
“Are you even reading it?”
Will couldn’t see Mike’s face from their position, but he could tell the other boy was looking at him from under his mop of black hair. “You haven’t turned the page in like, ten minutes.”
And, well, Will couldn’t exactly just say, ‘No, I haven’t, because you’re distracting. Actually, you’ve been messing with me all day, and it’s kind of driving me crazy.’
So instead, he flipped the page, not even sure that he finished reading the last one, “Yeah, of course.”
That could have been the end of it. It should have been, but Mike was nothing if not persistent.
A firm poke against his side made him flinch, probably a bit of an overreaction, but he really couldn’t help it.
Mike snorted softly, finally sitting up fully. “Dude. Why are you so jumpy today?”
Pushing him off the bed was looking really good right now.
Will rolled his eyes, “I don’t know, Mike, you’re…heavy.”
Mike was looking at him, a small, disbelieving smile on his face, “Heavy?”
“Yeah, you,” Will huffed, looking back down to the comic as if it could defend him, “Your head was crushing my arm, and it felt numb.”
“Okay. Yeah, sure. Sure, but-” Out of the corner of his eye, Will saw familiar slender fingers reaching up towards him. His heart jumped, a nervous swoop of his chest making his shoulders scrunch up to hide his neck.
Mike only poked his cheek. “Why is your face so pink?”
Oh.
“It’s hot in here.” Will shrugged, trying to ignore the heat in his cheeks, growing warmer now that it’s been pointed out.
“It’s January!”
“Yeah, well, you’re really warm.”
Will turned the page again, his best attempt at looking unbothered. Mike knew him too well, though. He probably saw straight through Will to the frantic beating of his heart.
“So it’s my fault then?” Mike was somehow even closer, his arm tucked against Will’s side. It was actually ridiculous how much empty space was left on the bed; two boys squished into the corner when a whole full-sized mattress was available.
The steady thump of Will’s pulse felt so loud in the quiet room. He was not going to answer that. Whatever game Mike was so invested in playing, Will refused to participate any longer.
He really should’ve known that ignoring Mike only incited a challenge. A quiet intake of breath was all he heard before he felt cool air blown against his ear.
Like everything else Mike did today, it made him flinch, a quiet squeak escaping him as he hiked up his shoulders once again. Mike’s soft little laugh, a warm, teasing sound, directly in his ear, was his last straw.
He shut the comic book, tossing it in a random direction on the bed, before placing his hands on Mike’s chest to push the other boy away. “Mike! Just- move over!”
Mike, stubborn as ever, gave Will maybe an inch of space, laughing at his obvious annoyance. Will kept trying to force him away, a tiny smile worming its way onto his face. He bit his lip, refusing to look like he was enjoying himself. Mike being a pain was not fun, or endearing, and it didn’t make his insides feel warm and fuzzy.
Looking annoyed got even more difficult, though, when Mike grabbed hold of his hips and squeezed.
His small shout felt like it ricocheted off the walls of Mike’s bedroom, Will’s arms quickly recoiling to wrap around himself. The sudden jolt and loss of his hands to prop him up made him lose his balance. He toppled over slightly, head resting on Mike’s chest.
Mike scoffed from above him, “Weren’t you just pushing me away? Why are you on top of me now?”
Will knew that his face, neck, and maybe even his ears were completely red as he felt Mike’s sweater brush against his cheek. He could feel himself rising in time with every gentle breath Mike took. And maybe, if he focused, he could hear a steady heartbeat-
He moved quickly on shaky arms, trying to push himself away, not wanting to let his mind wander down that path. Only, the second he tried to create any distance between them, Mike pinched his hips again, long fingers pressing firmly against the fabric of his sweatpants and digging into the bone.
“Mike!” Will choked back a surprised laugh, disguising it as a cough.
“You know,” Mike huffed a little laugh, a smile evident in his voice, “I wasn’t sure you’d still be ticklish.”
Will couldn’t keep himself from squirming, a small gasp leaving his lips as Mike walked his fingers up his sides, “What- are you- talking about?!” His words came out choppy, barely contained giggles lodged in his throat.
“I was just thinking…” He could feel Mike shrug behind him, “I guess I’ve been feeling nostalgic lately.”
‘What does that have to do with anything?’ ‘Why are you being so weird?’ ‘Stop touching me!’ All things that Will wanted to scream and demand an answer for, if only he weren’t busy reshaping his limbs into a protective cage around his torso. Weird little hiccupy gasps and snickers had him hiding his face in Mike’s pajama pants, knees pulled up to his chest as he slid even further down, head resting in Mike’s lap.
This was all clearly very amusing to the boy tormenting him. “Why does it sound like you’re choking? You do realize I’m barely touching you, right?”
A quiet whine sounded in the back of Will’s throat, Mike’s evil laugh taking up all available space in his mind. “D-Dohon’t touch me- at AHALL! MIKE!” He screeched, a sharp, pitchy sound, immediately followed by giggles muffled into soft fabric. Poking through Will’s loose t-shirt wasn’t enough, apparently, Mike had to shove his hands under Will’s shirt, squeezing at too warm skin.
Will’s arms managed to cover the exposed sections of his stomach and sides, but Mike had enough ticklish spots available just in Will’s lower back. The tips of his fingers trailed over Will’s spine, making his giggling quieter and less frequent, but had him squirming twice as much. Will arched away from the sensation as far as he could, but devilish hands always followed.
“Will, I don’t know if you’re aware, but I’m not exactly keeping you here.” Mike commented on Will’s twitchy state, yet made no move to put an end to it, “No one told you to curl up like a pill bug.”
“Sh-Shut up! ‘M nohot!” Will grasped at the air behind him, blindly reaching for slender wrists. His distracted mind, filled with cotton and quiet teases, didn’t seem to realize this left his side completely open once again. Mike quickly took advantage of his lapse in judgment to slip a hand over Will’s ribs, inviting frantic giggling back into the room.
“You’re not a pill bug, or you didn’t realize you could leave at any time? You really should be more specific.”
Mike wanted to kill him. That must be what this is. Mike Wheeler, age 15, woke up on a random Saturday in January with murderous intent towards his best friend of ten years.
Will honestly felt a little ridiculous at how easy it was to incapacitate him with a few well-placed pokes and a teasing voice. Or maybe that was all Mike. The boy he spent entirely too much time thinking about. The only person who could make him feel flustered just by existing in his vicinity.
“Is this why you’ve been so skittish all day?” Mike was questioning him again. Will couldn’t comprehend why, seeing as he could barely respond with more than an embarrassed squeak. “Because it kinda seemed like you were waiting for me to do something.”
This could be Mike being too smart for his own good (doubtful), or it was more proof of Mike watching Will extra carefully.
Of course, Will would never admit to waiting to be tickled to pieces. But he can’t deny that the way the other had been acting: hovering, touching, staring, made him feel like there was a good possibility. Although it was definitely more than possible that his over-the-top responses to Mike’s actions influenced the outcome.
A shake of his head was Will’s only answer, his inner deliberations unable and unwilling to be shared.
Mike’s bedroom actually did feel too hot now, his earlier fib gaining some truth. Will’s skin felt warm wherever Mike’s hands touched him, the gentle glide of fingers over his lower back, and the continuous squeeze of his ribs. His flushed cheek still pressed into Mike’s fuzzy pajama bottoms. If they didn’t stop soon, his brain might simply melt and leak out of his ears.
For now, though, Will was almost too content to lie there, floating on a cloud of endless giggles.
The hand on his back trailed higher, drawing little shapes and leaving a tingly trail in its wake. Will twisted away from the feeling, thoughtlessly moving to avoid the feather-like touch. Partially lying on his stomach provided much better access to his whole upper back, and the curious fingers he was trying so hard to run away from were quick to explore.
As Mike’s hands raised, so did the pitch of Will’s every noise. Light, airy titters spilled out of him like bubbles in a can of soda, mixed with little hiccups and soft squeaks.
Another quiet whine interrupted his squeaky giggles as Mike gently scratched at the back of his neck. “Mihihike..” Will felt like he couldn’t move, or maybe he just didn’t want to. It was all the same to his slowly melting mind.
“I didn’t think people could be ticklish on their backs.” Mike’s voice sounded softer, a gentle curiosity in his tone. “Is that just a Will Byers thing?”
Hearing Mike say his name while reducing him to a bundle of ticklish nerves only strengthened the effect. Will felt electrified down to his toes, a warm buzzing under his skin as he laughed.
He was so lost in the feeling of Mike’s hands pulling silly reactions out of him that he didn’t even remember to be embarrassed when a firm press between his shoulder blades made him squeal.
After a short while, Mike slowed to an eventual stop, allowing Will to catch his breath quietly. He stayed still for a moment, not quite ready to move away. Not because he was disappointed or anything—just a bit tired from the ticklish onslaught.
Besides, Mike wasn’t moving either, which was…weird, honestly. Will still felt hands on him, smoothing along his back and tracing over his hip. Not enough to tickle, just kind of there.
Peering over his shoulder, Mike looked a bit out of it himself, clearly lost in thought. It must be a trick of the light, Mike’s low lamp casting tricky shadows across the room, but Will could almost swear the faintest hint of pink was dusted across Mike’s cheeks.
Will’s mind offered the unhelpful comparison of Mike’s freckles to seeds on a strawberry before he quickly rolled away.
“Um.” Will’s proficiency with words was astounding, “That was- You uh- What was that for?”
From his position lying at the end of the bed, Mike looked somewhat puzzled, like he was still wading through a sea of complex thought.
“I told you.” He eventually shrugged, “I was thinking.”
Will’s brows furrowed, “About tickling me?”
“Uh. Yeah.” Maybe it was the distance, or the low light, or just the man himself, but Mike’s face appeared totally unreadable.
“Oh.” Will felt squirmy all over again. “May I ask why?”
The other boy pushed away from the wall to lie down beside him. This was the most space Mike placed between them all day, no part of them touching. Will felt a bit antsy looking into deep-brown eyes that stared back with confusing intensity.
“No.”
Will laughed softly, rolling his eyes, “That seems kind of unfair, Michael.”
He hummed, “Don’t you know life’s unfair, William?”
“Well, don’t I deserve retribution for everything you put me through?”
Mike looked incredulous, one eyebrow quirked in disbelief. “You’re acting like you didn’t like it.”
“Because I didn’t!” Will fought to keep a neutral expression, but based on the other’s quiet snort, it was a losing battle.
“Of course not. You just conveniently stayed very still while I tickled you.” Mike poked a socked foot against his leg, “Even after I kindly reminded you, you could move.”
Will’s stupid heart beat faster in his stupid chest. Mike was staring at him with that annoying little smirk he wore when he was so sure he was right about something. Will knew he wouldn’t get Mike to let this go, so he changed the subject, sure he could find a worthy distraction.
“That comic book you gave me was stupid.”
“What?!” Will laughed, watching Mike prop himself up on one elbow just to tower over his still lying form. “Will! Did you not read his backstory? His powers actually make so much sense for his character, it’s genius!”
“Don’t care. It’s dumb.”
Then he was giggling again, hands covering his stomach where Mike was littering him with harsh pokes. “Get out of my room!”
Will found himself rolling away again, placing his socked feet on the floor and quickly stepping to Mike’s door. He was about to open said door before a quiet, “Hey,” sounded from behind him.
He turned to see Mike sitting up at the edge of the bed, “Where are you going?”
A soft huff of a laugh left Will’s lips, “You quite literally just asked me to leave.”
“Yeah, well, I was joking.” Mike was playing with an invisible thread on his sheets, not looking at Will, “You don’t have to sleep in the basement tonight, if you don’t wanna.”
“Oh yeah?” Will bit his lip softly, rocking back and forth on his heels, “Where would I sleep then?”
A roll of brown eyes, “Where do you think, dummy?”
“Maybe I don’t want to share a room with someone who calls me dumb.” But Will was grinning.
“Okay, then stop being dumb.” And Mike was too.
They looked at each other for a moment, quietly taking the other in. Will’s shirt sat slightly askew, brown hair still tousled from the prior assault. Mike appeared relatively unchanged, but maybe. Maybe his cheeks really were tinted pink.
Will turned back towards the door, dopey grin widening as Mike protested again.
“I’m going to brush my teeth.” He called over his shoulder before heading out into the hallway. After only a moment, Mike was rushing after him.
It may have taken longer to finish getting ready for bed because neither of them could focus with the other in the same room. But maybe certain distractions weren’t such a bad thing.
Established Relationship, Reader is gender-neutral.
Synopsis: You take your boyfriend Eddie's chair while he steps out during a campaign, and he of course, retaliates.
!This is a SFW tckl fic, don't like don't read!
(Fic under the cut)
Today was supposed to be like any other club day. Everyone would come in, Eddie would take his place at the DM spot, and you’d all continue the campaign. However, you had other plans.
For almost 8 months now, you’ve somehow found yourself in a relationship with the man of your dreams. The scruffy metalhead. The DM. Eddie “The Freak” Munson himself. You two were the “freak couple” of Hawkins High. He was your boyfriend, loud and chaotic, a true force of nature. And you were his. Always there with just as much energy, right next to him, his personal hypeman wherever he was, whatever he did. But, that didn’t stop you two from playing around at times.
And of course, today that involves messing with Eddie every instance possible during this week’s Hellfire session. Because you can’t always be the perfect, responsible one. You’ve gotta have your own fun too.
Which leads you here, to Eddie's throne as he uses the bathroom, despite the warnings of the other members. Thankfully, his campaign notes and book are covered and shut, so you’re avoiding spoilers. (You think he’d probably kill you if you did, even if you are a couple.)
“You know you’re gonna get beat for that, right? Eddie takes his chair very seriously. It’s practically his baby, besides his guitar.” Gareth snickers, giving you a knowing smirk.
“And? I’m his too, y’know.” You chuckle back when, speak of the devil, Eddie bursts through the door.
“Your master is BACK! Prepare to-” Eddie pauses his theatrical re-entrance as his eyes land on you, relaxed in his throne. He clears his throat, and the rest of Hellfire holds their breath in anticipation, and while they don’t notice the faint blush on their DM’s cheeks, you sure do. “Well, well well. What do we have here? Looks like someone’s sitting on my throne.”
“It’s quite comfy, Eddie! You should check it out sometime.” You tease, chuckling as he struts over, looking down at your spot in his chair, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh really? You really wanna do this right now? Right here?” He gives you a warning grin, crossing his arms across his chest. You pause, before nodding, and flipping him the bird. “You just dug your own grave, sweetheart.”
And then it happens. Eddie uncrosses his arms, his hands flying to your sides and wiggling his fingers against your skin, tickling you. You screech out, covering your face with your hands and bursting out into giggles.
“Eddihihihihie!!! Nohot fahahair!!!” You muster out through your giggles, trying to tune out the amused laughter of the other Hellfire members watching your demise.
Eddie gives you a knowing smirk, looking down at your giggling form and moving his hands up to under your arm, digging his fingers into the ticklish skin and muscles. “Aw come on, I know you love this.” He teases, and you know he’s right. After all, you hadn’t exactly hidden it.
The way your face lights up when he tickles you. The way you never fight back or just immediately tell him off. The way your cheeks turn pink just watching it happen to someone else. Eddie notices it all. And you know he does. It’s why he’s standing over you right now, indulging you in your playful little interest.
“Come ohohohohohon!!!! Not in frohont of the ohohohothers!!!” You squeak out as his nimble fingers go up and down your sides.
“You gonna get up, sweetie? No? Well then, the tickle monster’s gonna have to eat you up!” Eddie chuckles, looking down at you mischievous before leaning in and taking a deep breath. Your eyes go wide below him, lips curling upwards in anticipation.
And he strikes, blowing a raspberry right onto your neck. You squeal at the feeling, bursting out into loud, hearty laughter. “EDDIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIEEEEEE!!!”
“Yes, darling? Does that tickle?” He teases, before blowing another raspberry onto the same spot, leaving you gasping for air. Seeing this, Eddie backs up, but not before pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.
“Damnit Eheheddie… You’re evil.” You breathe out, smiling and climbing off the chair, returning to your own. “You love me.” Eddie replies, a smug grin on his face.
“Told ya’ you’d get destroyed.” Gareth mutters, to which you respond with an unamused, “Shut up.” And you flick him lightly on the forehead, crossing your arms as you slump back in your chair.
“Now, let’s get back to the campaign!” Eddie announces, to which the group lets out a chorus of sighs and settles back into the flow.
I think in honor of Stranger Things ending- I NEED to write a fic for my favorite duo.
I haven't actually written anything in YEARS, so you'll have to forgive me if it's not the best.
This is a platonic tickle fic, NSFW DNI!
ler!Steve lee!Dustin
Word count: 940
Summary: Steve and Dustin step aside at the Squawk to talk. The tension spills over until Steve gently breaks it with familiar, brotherly affection.
Imagine: After the exotic matter got disrupted, after the lab started to melt- they came back to the WSQK to re-group.
They're back from the Upside Down, the lab. The melting walls are etched in their memories.
The back room at WSQK feels smaller than it should.
A couch is pushed against the wall, its cushions sagging in the middle as if it's supported too many tired people over the years. A stack of boxes leans dangerously to one side. Someone left a lamp on, even though the overhead light works just fine.
Steve closes the door behind them. The noise from the main room fades to a muffled hum.
Dustin doesn’t sit down right away.
He paces once, then stops, gripping his backpack tightly. His hold tightens, then relaxes, then tightens again. Steve watches from a few feet away, unsure if stepping closer would help or make things worse.
Dustin finally speaks in a low, tense voice.
“You just ran in.”
Steve exhales slowly.
“You didn’t even hesitate,” Dustin goes on. “You just went. What if I wasn’t there to hold you back?” The image of the ladder falling replays in his mind.
Dustin's anger has been building. It grows each time Steve seems to act without thinking.
Steve nods once, jaw clenched.
Dustin turns to him, eyes sharp. “Do you ever think about what happens if you get hurt... or worse?”
Steve opens his mouth, then closes it again, sinking onto the couch with a sigh.
“Because it didn’t look like it,” Dustin says angrily. “It looked like you’d already decided it didn’t matter.”
Steve shifts his weight. “That’s not what I was thinking.”
“Were you thinking at all?” Dustin snaps, his throat tight.
Steve hesitates. “I wasn’t.”
That stops Dustin in his tracks.
Steve rubs his hand over his face. “I don't have time to think, I act. I know that's wrong.”
“So you just… don’t care?” Dustin scoffs.
“I didn’t say that.” Steve rolls his eyes unconsciously.
“That’s how it looks,” Dustin retorts. “Like you’re okay being the one who doesn’t make it.”
Steve finally meets his gaze fully. “I’m not okay with it.”
“Then why do you act like you are?” Dustin's voice cracks, his eyes stinging.
Steve doesn’t answer right away. He sinks deeper into the couch, resting his elbows on his knees and staring at the floor.
“…I don't mean it like that,” Steve says softly but firmly.
Dustin’s anger wavers, replaced by something heavier.
“You scare me,” Dustin admits. His voice cracks slightly again. “When you do that.”
Steve nods. “I know.”
“You don’t get to,” Dustin adds. “You don’t get to decide that it’s fine and leave the rest of us-” He cuts himself off, jaw tight, sniffling. "like Eddie." He blurts out, swallowing hard to stifle the scratch in his throat.
Steve looks up at him. “I...” he has nothing to say.
Dustin lets out a short sniffle, eyes red, lip quivering lightly. “Please don't leave me.” he says shakily.
Steve shakes his head, meeting Dustin’s gaze. “I’m not planning on it.”
The words linger between them, the silence stretching a bit too long.
Steve shifts, scooting over slightly, tapping the space beside him- asking Dustin to sit.
Dustin sits down slowly. “You're an asshole...” he mutters, wiping his eyes with his sleeve.
Steve swallows. “Fair.”
Not a defense, not an argument.
Just acceptance.
Dustin's shoulders slump as if the fight has gone out of him. For a while, neither speaks. The muffled sound of voices drifts in from the other room.
Dustin’s foot begins to bounce slightly again.
Steve notices.
He glances down, then back up. “You’re doing the thing.”
Dustin frowns, eyes still red but calmer. “What thing?”
Steve gestures to his foot. “That thing. It means you’re thinking too hard.”
“I’m not.”
Steve smirks faintly. “You’re vibrating.”
Dustin glares. “Shut up.” A soft chuckle escapes him as he sniffs and wipes his nose.
Steve chuckles softly.
The tension eases a bit.
Steve leans back against the couch, stretching his arm along the backrest- casual, familiar. “You done yelling at me?”
Dustin huffs. “Don’t push it.”
Steve smiles and nudges his knee lightly with his own. “You okay?”
Dustin shrugs. “I don’t know.”
Steve accepts that, nodding once. He chuckles and gives Dustin’s side a small squeeze, almost subconsciously- like he’s done a hundred times before when Dustin gets wound too tight.
Dustin jerks away instantly. “Steve-”
Steve grins. “Relax.”
“You’re not funny,” Dustin mutters, curling in slightly.
Steve does it again, fingers pressing just enough to make him squirm. “You’ve been tense all week.”
In which ever since Nancy told Mike he could easily get whatever he wants using his “sad, lost boy puppy dog face”, he starts to get way too cocky with it. Will over the many years of knowing Mike has learned to not be so easily persuaded by it, and decides to teach him how it doesn’t work on everyone like he assumes.
This is a tickle fic. Please do not read if that’s not your thing.
“Don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what?”
Will paused his careful painting, giving Mike who’s laying flat on his stomach on his bed a quick side eye. “You know what.”
It was a cloudy afternoon, Will being at the Wheelers for over an hour now. Mike had a lot of school work he kept pushing to the side, and a couple of the due dates are starting to near in the next few days. He decided it’s better to start working on them with some company rather than all alone, so of course why not invite Will Byers, someone he can always have fun with no matter what they’re doing.
Will brought his own school work, which was a little different than Mike’s. It’s an art project, to no one’s surprise, and it had to be perfect according to Will. Where he’s at with it is painting the smallest of details to his claymations of people, having to make sure his hands don’t wobble too much where he smudges the paint.
After forty-five minutes had gone by, he started to feel Mike’s eyes on him, watching him focused on painting. He didn’t mind it at all, until Mike started to nag him to help him with one of his own school work that required art, but not to the degree of Will’s. Still, it is something Mike has been dreading to start, not having a single artistic bone in him.
Mike kept the sad puppy dog face, oblivious to what Will was telling him to not do. “Just help me with it whenever you can, that’s all I’m asking.”
Will sighed, dabbing his paintbrush in a water cup to add a new color. “When you mean ‘help’, you actually mean for me to just do it for you, right?”
Mike slightly threw his hands up in mock offense, although Will was right on with his assumptions. “Of course not!” That earned Mike another side glance from him. “I just don’t know how to really start it, so maybe you can help me out with that. After, I swear I’ll take on the rest.”
Will groaned, but not from Mike’s suggestion. He swiped a little too harshly when painting eyes on one of the claymation people, making it look messy. He hated a messy look on his art.
Deciding to take a deep breath and fix it later, he starts putting his attention onto the small trees he made out of cardboard, grabbing a nearby glue stick. “Are you even done with your other homework you have?”
Mike, who is still laying on his stomach with his elbows propped up, only shrugged to his question. “I mean, sorta yea. I’m kinda waiting for you to finish up so we can start my art homework, that’s the most important one.”
Will shook his head. “I don’t remember agreeing to help you with it yet.”
Mike whined. “Oh c'mon, please?” He goes back to making the face everyone cannot say no to, scrunching his eyebrows a little high with his eyes slightly crinkled up. Will can sense it, and tries everything in his power to not look over his shoulder at Mike, no matter what he says.
“I still have my own I have to work on, which I’m literally doing right now. It’s going to take awhile, I’m sorry.”
Will hears Mike sigh dramatically, which has him bite the inside of his cheek to not comment on. He feels himself on the edge of it, on the edge of almost falling for it. The slight whine caught in Mike’s tone, the scrunch of his brows and crinkle of his eyes, having a sad longing expression written all over his face. It’s the infamous lost puppy dog face, and Will has witnessed so many lose to it.
He can’t. He won’t. This art project he’s doing is worth half of his grade, he can’t abandon it to start another that’s not even his. Mike is going to learn the lesson of patience today, and that you can’t always get everything you want, no matter how hard you try. Everything is fine, just focus on folding the green paper in a way that almost looks like leaves—
“I can’t believe it.” Mike’s voice pulls Will out of his train of focus, having him pause his movements yet again. He hasn’t looked over yet, though.
“Can’t believe what?”
“That you don’t love me.”
Will perks his head up, staring at the wall in front of him for a few seconds. His left hand does a little twitch, and he finally fully faces over to look at Mike, turning his entire chair around.
There he was. On the bed, wearing that stupid lost puppy face that he hasn’t dropped once, the one where Will has the sudden urge to wipe it right off of him.
“Okay, that’s it.”
Will got up from his chair, a little too fast for Mike as he flinched and started to sit up on the bed to put a bit of distance between.
Will moved in silence, avoiding Mike’s flailing hands to grab his wrists as he settled for a seat on his waist, not wasting any time on showing his true motives by shoving his hands directly to Mike’s underarms.
Thank god nobody was home and it was just the two of them, because Mike screamed bloody-murder.
“WAHAHAIT!” Mike spluttered out through his frantic laughter, cheeks becoming tinted pink in an instant over embarrassment from how easy it always is to take him down with just a couple of wiggling fingers to his skin. He absolutely hated walking around with “the most ticklish” title in the friend group, but thankfully for him most of the time he didn't get attacked unless it was well deserved.
Like right now, in only Will’s eyes.
“You just couldn’t leave me be, huh?” Will calmly talked over Mike’s giggly protests and pleas that fell on deaf ears, trying to press half of his face in a nearby pillow to muffle his laughs that are soon to become hiccupy. Will squeals when tickled to pieces, which Mike adores. For Mike, he hiccups, which Will adores. The littlest details in both their laughs that gets them to pray for opportunities to fall in their laps as an excuse to get one another.
“You just had to keep bugging me while I was doing my work.” His left hand started to travel lower, getting him on the start of his upper ribs. Mike bucked his hips, but Will barely moved from where he was sitting on his waist. Mike is starting to think that maybe joining Lucas whenever he heads to the gym isn’t a bad idea after all, because he would’ve already gotten out of this. He’s sure of it.
Will kept talking, ignoring how bad the rapid squeezing to Mike’s side is getting him to cackle nonstop. “You just had to go and try and trick me using your sad puppy dog eyes, huh? Did you really think that was going to work on me? I need you to think again.”
Will decided to have a heart and stop for a moment, letting him catch his breath. Mike furrows his brows in a mock of confusion, yet his big smile and sheepish giggles tell Will otherwise that he knows exactly what he’s talking about.
“Ihihi dohon’t— huh?? Puppy dog eyes…? Whahat do yohou mean—“ but Mike couldn’t finish his sentence as more giggles cut through, because Will started to lightly prod in various places around his stomach and sides as he narrowed his eyes down at him. “Oh yeah, act dumb, because that’s gonna make me stop tickling you.”
Will has been itching to go in for the kill, for the one spot that nearly has Mike see heaven itself from how terribly it tickles. He couldn’t resist anymore, and decided Mike didn’t deserve any build-up for it anyway, not today at least. After a couple of more pokes and prods up and down his sides, he all of a sudden latches his hands firmly on each side of Mike’s hips, poised for a brutal attack.
Mike was barely given any time to register what’s to come, gasping before letting a giggly shrill overtake him from fingers now rapidly pinching his hipbones, so loud it nearly had Will stop to cover his poor ears. Yet he just laughs alongside Mike over his ridiculous squirming that gets him nowhere and the hiccups in between his laughs that come from deep within the chest. God, he could do this all day if homework wasn’t silently calling his name this entire time, having to put an end to this soon.
“IHIHIM— IHIHIM—“ Mike squeezed his eyes shut to try and stop the tears from laughing so hard to roll down his rosy cheeks, but it’s quite inevitable. Will can’t help but start to softly smile down at the sight underneath him, resorting to scribbling at the hips so Mike can have a chance to speak.
“You’re…? You’re what?” Will teases gently, slowing the tickles altogether once he can tell that Mike’s giggly hiccups in between are starting to get painful. The sight of Mike being so relieved to finally bless his lungs with air, cheeks burning, body all limp has pulled Will’s heart strings a little, starting to rub small soothing circles on all the spots he targeted in the last three minutes as a quiet ‘sorry’ if he ever went too far.
He never goes too far whenever he tickles Mike, though. If anything, small disappointment waved over him the second Will stopped, wishing tickles didn’t tire him out so easily so it could go for longer without Will ever overthinking he’s done too much.
But of course, the thought of Will ever finding out how much this enjoys Mike would surely kill him on the spot from humiliation. He’ll continue to stay silent.
For now.
“I’m sohohorehehey…” He finished his sentence after a couple of more moments pulling himself together, slowly opening his eyes to look up at a smiling Will who holds so much love for him behind his gaze.
His hands go right back to his hipbones, resting there to give the illusion he’ll start back up again, having Mike flinch. “I don’t think you are.”
Will lets a few seconds go by of watching Mike let out another batch of giggly pleas, shaking his head, hands wrapping tight around Will’s wrists but not doing much to push back. He’s not even tickling him, yet Mike is doing so much laughing that it’s satisfying enough for Will to call it quits.
“But,” he swiftly gets off of Mike’s waist, heading back to his chair while biting the inside of his cheek to stop himself from grinning over Mike’s dumbfounded expression over him going back to his art project like nothing happened. He picks up where he left off on paper macheing the trees, grabbing the glue stick nearby that’s already got the cap off. “This project won’t finish itself, so I’ll let it go. For now.”
From behind, Will hears quiet shuffling, assuming Mike is sitting up to go fetch his own half unfinished homework, thinking how right Will is. It won’t finish itself.
However, he sees Mike pull his own wheeling chair next to Will from his peripheral vision, making him stop to look up with a raise of a brow.
“Then, when you’re done, you’ll hundred percent help with mine, yes?”
Cue the look.
And Mike’s room was filled with laughter once again, never learning his lesson.
I know I said I was writing some reddie stuff, and different stranger things pairs, but the boys got to me 😭😭😭 Here's some more byler everyone
Also HAPPY PRIDE MONTH!!! 🌈 I genuinely love you all so much 🫶🫶 Never forget how important you are!!!
Lee: Will
Ler: Mike
TW!: None!
Word Count: 2189
"Mike! Stohohop, I swehear—"
"You swear? That's pretty rude, Will." Mike giggled along with the squirming boy in his hold, slipping his fingers under Will's plaid button-up to scribble directly at his belly. "Your mom must be disappointed."
Will just laughed, tipping his head back against Mike's chest in a way that made his hair stick up, wild and unruly. His hands flew to push Mike away, but it wasn't easy, considering the teen was an almost-six-foot mass of long limbs and curly hair, wrapped around him like a personal suit of armor.
Moments ago, the boys had been cuddling while they watched a movie. Return of the Jedi softly filled the basement, just audible enough to be heard over quiet conversation. It was meant to be a calm night, but the peace between them could only last for so long.
As they drifted from their usual talk, like what schoolwork was due next week, and when they should have another campaign or hangout, Mike and Will found that they didn't have much to say.
Which was fine. It wasn't like they hadn't sat in silence with one another before. There were some days when words didn't feel necessary; it was easy enough to understand each other without having to say anything at all.
Tonight though, Mike was bored, and quiet wasn't helping to keep him occupied.
His fingers traced absentmindedly at Will's waist, pressing soft patterns into skin so still that Mike wondered if he had fallen asleep. Looking for an excuse to move, he leaned to press a kiss to Will's shoulder, only to find that there were goosebumps spread up his neck. Mike hadn't felt Will shiver—was he cold? Before he could wonder much longer, Will shifted, and just as he was about to ask—
"…'T tickles, Mike," the boy murmured, turning his head to meet the dark eyes behind him.
"Hm?" Mike's lips quirked a little. Will looked about ready to doze off, eyes droopy with sleep and comfort, yet his cheeks were flushed a rosy hue.
"Your hand. It tickles."
The taller hummed in response. That explained the goosebumps, at least. "Sorry, I'm kinda fidgety," he whispered, suddenly enamored by the pretty hazel irises gazing back at him. He pecked Will's lips, stilling his hands and instead opting to hold onto his waist. "I can stop if you'd like."
"That's okay. It kinda feels nice."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, like a spider"—Will grinned—"But if you bite me, I'm never speaking to you again."
Mike smiled right back, his fingers resuming their path across the expanse of tummy underneath them. "I thought you didn't like spiders."
"That's besides the pohohoint!" Will gasped, arching away as a finger wiggled at his bellybutton. "Mike, wahait!"
And the rest was history.
"What's wrong? They just wanna play," the raven-haired boy teased, crawling his hands higher up Will's midsection. He dug into his lower ribs, grinning at the squeal that flew from his best friend's mouth.
Mike slipped his hands out of Will's shirt and tapped at his arms, pressed tightly to his sides to prevent further attack. "Do you mind? The spiders need to get back to their home."
Will shook his head ardently. He knew exactly what that meant, and it wasn't good.
"Nohot thehere! Please, I cahahan't!" he pushed at the claws with t-rex hands, feet kicking out in giddy panic.
Mike snorted. "Jeez, you're so ticklish!" He tried to pry an elbow away from Will's side, reaching and wiggling the fingers of his free hand to keep Will giggling. "I haven't even touched you yet!"
"Ahand—hic!—You're not gohonna!" In a sudden rush of motion, Will jumped from Mike's lap and booked it to the stairs. He looked back only to stick his tongue out at his partner, sprinting up to the first floor of the house.
Mike gaped at what just unfolded. That little shit.
He was up a moment later, skipping steps as he hauled butt to catch up to Will. Judging by the distant thud of footsteps, the escapee was making a break for Mike's room.
Oh, he was totally asking for it at this point.
Out of breath from two flights of stairs, Mike latched onto the familiar doorknob to his room, but it didn't budge.
"Will? Did you seriously lock the door?"
"You're not gonna get me!"
"We'll see about that." He reached for the top of his doorframe, feeling along the small space until he found what he was looking for.
He flung the door open a moment later and was met with the sight of a very shocked Will scrambling up from his bed.
"You have a key."
Mike laughed, tossing the shiny object to the floor as he made his way to his boyfriend. "Wouldn't it be a shame if I were locked out?"
Will squeaked, his feet already to the floor as if making to run again, but Mike was ready this time. He grabbed him by the waist, pushing him back up onto the mattress and sitting on his thighs in one quick motion.
Will burst into giggles, pushing at Mike's chest in an attempt to dislodge him, and then at his arms when they reached for his sides. He wouldn't be going down without a fight.
"Wiiill," Mike sang. He caught one of the flying wrists and pinned it under his knee. "Don't make this harder than it has to be!"
Well, crap. The brunette twisted to the side—or about as close as he could with the teen on his legs—and tried bucking him off. It was nearly impossible to fend off the tickly hands when he only had use of one, and Mike wasn't moving an inch.
"This ihisn't fahahair!"
"Yeah? I would argue that locking me out of my own room is unfair, but that might just be me."
Will shook his head, squealing when Mike grabbed hold of his other arm and pinned it as well.
"Nononono wahahait!" He exploded into frantic laughter as his boyfriend resumed that same crawling motion at his now unprotected sides. "Screhehew yohohohou!"
"Wow, Will. I see how it is." Mike scribbled over his bottom-most ribs, laughing as he jumped beneath him. "It's like you want me to get your armpits."
"NOHOHO!" Will snorted, his giggles jumping up a whole octave at the proposition. "I'm sohorry! Mihihike!"
Will's underarms were his worst spot, and ever since Mike found out in first-grade, that knowledge has been put to good use.
Sure, Jonathan would tickle him lots when he was little, and even his mom when he would give a little more attitude than usual, but it was different with Mike.
With him, it was never quick pokes and scribbles like his mom, or the kinds of tickles that made him scream more than anything when roughhousing with his brother. Mike always tickled him with the sole intent of making him smile.
During his darkest moments, when Will felt out of control, scared and wrong, he knew that he could count on his best friend to make him feel better.
And when things felt okay again—maybe not the same, but closer to how life should be—he was the constant support that just made better days worth having.
Will never understood the people who hated being tickled. To him, it felt like comfort and home. It felt like love.
Even as Mike's long fingers met his underarms, drilling into the squishy skin in that silly, awkward motion that just screamed Mike Wheeler, Will felt his heart swell with adoration.
"NAHAHAHAH!—hic!—MIHIIIIKE!"
Mike burst into giggles at the squeals of his boyfriend, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek just as Will threw his head to the side in laughter.
After the first few seconds, Will's squirming slowed, the thrashing replaced by bouncing shoulders and weak, happy laughter. Mike watched in real time as his face flushed a dark strawberry color.
"Wihill? Are you doing alright down there?"
He didn't answer at first, and it took Mike a couple of seconds to realize it was because he was laughing too hard to string any words together. He wordlessly moved to his tummy, scratching and scribbling all over until Will gasped in a breath, peeking through teary eyes to muster up a half-hearted glare.
"Noho thanks to yohohou…"
"What? Are you back to hating spiders?"
"Juhuhust yohou!"
"Um, hello? Is this you asking for round two?" Mike squished Will's sides in warning.
"Wahahait!" Will jumped, kicking his legs out in giggly protest.
"That's not a no."
When he didn't give any real indication that he wanted to stop, Mike went right back to his armpits, and Will was sent cascading back into laughter.
This time, though, Mike was gentler. He carefully tapped his fingers under Will's arms, barely firm enough to even be a real touch at all. He leaned his weight forwards to pin Will a little better when he started squirming again, making sure to keep his balance as his boyfriend tried rolling away once again.
"Ihihit tihiHIHicklES!"
Will was in stitches. Somehow, the light poking was so much worse than what Mike was doing before, forcing choked giggles out before he even had a thought to stop them. The lack of real force felt almost like anticipation, as if Mike would dig in at any moment, and it was driving him crazy.
"Plehehease!"
"Please, what? Isn't this what you wanted?"
Will felt his whole face burn. "Nohohoho!"
"Are you sure?" Mike was grinning like a Cheshire cat.
Will didn't say anything. Instead, he squeaked, ducking his face into Mike's blanket. Sure, he didn't hate being tickled. Mike knew it was something he was comfortable with, and that was one of the reasons why he did it so often. Still, even after all of this time, it was embarrassing to admit to something like that. Will supposed that he had conditions to his vulnerability.
Of course, Mike knew all of this. He knew Will got flustered being tickled; he knew it was worse talking about it. More than that, he knew it was all okay anyways. Being with Will allowed Mike to be himself, unafraid of judgement, or of sharing secrets and feelings, and just being him. If Mike made Will feel safe, then Will made Mike brave.
"Friends don't lie, Will."
The brunette gasped in air as Mike stilled his hands. He tried to hide his giddy smile in the sheets beneath him, but wiggling fingers under his chin put an end to that almost immediately.
"AHAH! Whyhyhy?"
"I told you already!" Mike found that spot where Will's neck met his shoulders and pinched gently. "I don't appreciate you lying to me."
The motion made Will squeal once again. He tried to block Mike out by pressing his ear to his shoulder, but that just started the whole new problem of the other side of his neck being exposed. Like clockwork, Mike leaned down to blow a raspberry to the ticklish skin.
Will was definitely going crazy now. He pulled desperately at his trapped hands, trying and failing to pull himself together enough to break free. When Mike squeezed at his hips, Will wondered if he'd actually make it out with his mind still intact.
"I can't believe how cute you are."
Definitely not.
Mike pressed his lips to Will's neck again. Then, to his jaw, and over his cheeks until he was peppering kisses all over the face of his giggling boyfriend. Will leaned his head back, welcoming the affection with a smile. The curly-haired boy rested his hands on Will's chest as he caught his lips in a final kiss.
"Ihi… still think you're evihil." Will panted.
"Mm, I know." Mike drummed his fingers over his collarbones. "You like it though."
There was that strawberry color again. Only this time, if he looked really closely, Will could see that Mike was blushing too.
"Mahaybe I do."
Mike laughed, teeth shining in the white light of his bedside lamp. "Maybe, or you actually do?"
"I do," Will promised. He gave another tug on his arms, and Mike let him go, sitting back over his waist as Will cupped his face.
Will tugged him down for another kiss, the two of them laughing despite themselves at the silliness of the whole night.
"Oh, by the way," the shorter started as they pulled apart. "I'm totally getting you back for that."
"Huh? I thought you said you didn't mind?"
Will snickered. "I don't. But I still want revenge."
Mike was off his lap in an instant, about ready to flee for his life, until Will caught hold of his arm.
"Not now. I wanna cuddle."
Mike looked skeptical, but he relaxed anyways, just as he always did around his best friend. "You're being serious?"
"Yes," Will nodded. "I swear you're safe…for now."
"Wow, how romantic." Mike sighed, settling next to Will and throwing an arm over his side. "I feel so loved."
Will hummed, reaching for a hand and interlocking their fingers. "Good. That means I'm doing something right."
And as long as Mike and Will were together, just as they were destined to be, the universe is undoubtedly right.
Well, I don't know how to start. To be honest, I didn't realize that the little problem I had would get so big, and well, I want to apologize for disappearing like that, but as I mentioned, a personal problem came up that thankfully is now resolved :D. So, I'll leave you with some Stranger Things food and promise to fulfill your orders as soon as possible 😭😭
