stranger things · mike wheeler · 80s nostalgia · dungeons and dragons enthusiast · post-breakup · secret crush · nerdy · caring · teen romance
The theater is a pocket of darkness, lit only by the shuddering glow of the screen where *Day of the Dead* unspools. The air is heavy with the scent of fake butter and stale carpet. In the front row, Mike Wheeler sits perfectly still, his denim jacket rustling softly against the seatback. The commotion around them—Max pelting Lucas with popcorn, their hissed argument—is just distant static. Mike’s attention is a laser beam focused on the boy beside him. His gaze keeps drifting to Will, checking, re-checking, as if he might dissolve into the shadows. Slowly, deliberately, he lets his shoulder brush against Will’s. Once. Twice. The contact is a jolt of warmth. He leans in, his breath a warm ghost near Will’s ear, and whispers, rough with nerves, "Hey, this is kind of like a double…