Work Text:
Snowflakes glistened in the streetlamps golden lights, painting the streets of Hawkins in a muted frost. Left-out Christmas lights were slathered above the windowpanes of dainty houses, across the suburbs, and even the Wheeler's home.
Mike rubbed the window with his sweater sleeve, clearing a patch of visibility. To no surprise, there had been another few inches of snow added since he'd last checked.
His hands fidgeted, moving to his record player on his desk, its soft melody starting to fill his room. He walked over to his bed, Will sitting up half-heartedly. He climbed next to Will, his hands brushing against Will. Will's breath shuddered.
“Why are your hands always so cold?” Will muttered, nose scrunching, slightly slipping Mike’s cold hands into his. Instantly covered by his natural hand heaters. “I swear, they're like icicles.” Will takes the blanket and covers Mike too, bringing them closer.
“This might be a shocker for you, but it is wintertime.”
“Mike.” Will rolled his eyes, pushing him.
“It is! But, maybe, just maybe, they're just waiting for you to make them warm again.” Mike smiled, blushing as he felt Will massage his hand underneath the blankets' warmth. His eyes meet Will's. “You know, nerves or whatever.” He mentally groaned.
Will chuckled, the sound making Mike’s eyes glisten. His fingers interlock with Mike's. “You look ridiculous in my sweater, by the way.” Will smiled teasingly, stealing for himself more of the chunky plaid blue-and-yellow comforter he had stolen from Mike’s reach. Mike's eyes widened, almost offended.
Will sat up against the headboard all cozy, cheeks and ears colored a light pink. Almost all of Will’s body was covered in the blanket now, only leaving his head popped out.
“Ridiculous? I think you mean handsome.” Mike scoffed, backing away, surveying his figure and then Will’s face. Will chuckled, hiding his face behind his palm.
He rolled his eyes, as he leaned his head onto Will's shoulder. He nuzzles his head back and forth until he finally finds the perfect spot. “I happen to think your wardrobe looks good on me too.”
Will's eyes flutter as he checks him out. “Mmm. Fine. You look ridiculously handsome."
“Is that so?” Mike’s eyebrows arched, a smirk being painted over his face. His chunky, cobalt and crimson sweater scrunched, riding up gently. “Seems to me like that’s an excuse for me to…take this off.” Mike laughs, lifting the sweater teasingly, showing off his lower half. Will’s eyes divert to his stature, gazing ever so quickly at Mike’s trail and then back up.
Will cracks, “I didn't think you were serious.”
“Mmm, well here we are.”
“However…” Will looks at Mike.
“Hmm?” Mike leers.
“Get your head out of the gutter.” Will jokes, pushing Mike softly down onto the bed. Mike looks up, batting his lashes. His hand extends to Will's necklace, gently caressing Will's neck. As the necklace rests against his Adam's Apple, their eyes focus on each other.
“Ok, ok.” He manages to get out, his hands still circled around the lock. He sits up, his eyes reeling him in. Will's focused on his shoulders, freckles splattered on the tops of them. Will caresses his shoulders, a soft shudder echoed from in front of him. His eyes closed, a soft moan leaving his lips. He was a goner. His hand moves tenderly to grasp his neck and tug at the back of the necklace.
He opens his eyes, “Can I kiss you already?"
"You don't have to ask."
Will leans in, kissing Mike's lips softly, then moving to his neck. Mike's hands move against Will's neck, somewhat clumsily, and grabs the back, latching it off. It slips off easily and falls into Mike's hands.
“Just gonna put this riiiight here.” Mike clears his throat, putting the necklace on his desk, a whimper leaving. Will licks a spot on his neck, leaving Mike groaning in shallow breathes. “Well, now who's head is in the gutter?” Mike breathily questions, earning a smile from Will. As Will grabs Mike's face and puts his lips on his, Mike brings him forward, grabbing his soft hair. Pulling him in. Wanting to take all of him in.
Gently, Will leads Mike back down against his bed. He wrangles Mike's curls into his hand as he brushes them back and forth. Will delves deeper into Mike's mouth, like a man starved.
"T-take your sweater off."
"Ok."
He sits up, using one hand as he discards his sweater, keeping a keen hand on Will as he rushes back into his lips. Mike's hands drop down to Will's hips, bring them closer to his. They lead to under his shirt, feeling his warmth radiate off of him. And then Will’s shirt is off. He takes control, caressing his arms and reeling him and tossing the comforter over them.
-
Remnants of the record dimly drowns in the background, as Will strokes his thumb against Mike's thumb, feeling the ghost of his print everytime until he inevitably drifts back there again. It's quiet enough to hear each other's shallow breaths. Mike settles in Will's warmth, his neck on his chest. "You're so warm."
He nudges. "I guess we even each other out."