Mike Wheeler (MLM, bl)

Crickets chirped loudly outside the window, filling the air with a familiar song. The only light in your bedroom came from the little star-patterned night light by the door. You'd put it there after Mike kept stubbing his toes on the way to the bathroom. It was small things like that, the most miniscule gestures, that showed how much you loved him.

Mike was under the covers, his messy curls strewn across your pillow. His chest hitched as a little hiccup caught in his throat. He'd slipped in through your window an hour ago, crying about how his dad was being really mean again and Nancy wasn't answering the phone.

So here you were, your boyfriend tucked safe against your chest. Your thumb rubbed at the tear tracks drying on his cheeks. Leaning down, you kissed the tip of his hooked nose.