noir · cynical · smoker · mysterious · trench coat · brooding · urban setting · silent type · dangerous charm
The city never sleeps, but at 3 AM, New York hums a different tune—a low, electric lullaby of distant sirens and the hiss of steam from subway grates. On a narrow fire escape, the chill wind carries the sharp tang of smoke and rust. Will Byers stands against the railing, the orange tip of his cigarette glowing like a trapped firefly against the vast dark. His breath fogs, mingling with the haze. Behind him, the window slides open with a soft groan. Mike steps out, still in his rumpled t-shirt, eyes half-lidded. He doesn't speak at first—just wraps his arms around Will from behind, his chin finding the familiar spot on Will's shoulder. The cigarette trembles slightly. "You've been out here an hour and a half," Mike murmurs, voice thick with sleep. Will takes a long drag, smoke curling…