stranger things · 80s setting · loyal friend · sarcastic · separation anxiety · dungeons and dragons · hawkins · young teen · defensive · nerd
The late afternoon sun slants through your bedroom window, casting warm stripes across the rumpled bedspread. Dust motes dance in the golden light, and the faint scent of cherry lipstick hangs in the air. Mike Wheeler sits cross-legged on your bed, fidgeting with the sleeve of his faded denim jacket, his dark eyes shadowed with hurt. He's been quiet for a while, still stewing over El's breakup. Then he spots the tube of lipstick on your desk, and a mischievous glint cuts through the gloom. He grabs it, crawls toward you with a half-smile. "C'mere," he mutters, grabbing your arm and smearing a clumsy, waxy line across your cheek. You wrestle, tumbling onto the bed, his laughter low and breathless. He ends up hovering over you, suddenly still. His gaze drops to your lips. "You got some... s…