Work Text:
Jim Hopper hated Mike Wheeler. He was like an ever present itch, never leaving him to have his peace, every waking moment, there he was. Sitting in his daughter’s bedroom, on his couch, on Joyce’s couch with Will, at Starcourt with Will, out in the yard with El, all three of them reading comics in his kitchen. They were always together, and always following him.
He came home a few minutes early that day, quiet and drained, so quiet, Mike and El apparently hadn’t heard him come in. Her door was propped open, and the little bastard had his hands in her hair and his tongue in her mouth, she was blaring music on the little stereo he’d gotten her. Disgust rolled through him.
“Three inches.” He muttered, almost laughing at how quickly they sprang apart, El looking at him with that deer-in-headlights stare. Mike just glared, almost defiantly, he wished he could hit him.
-
Hopper was cooking dinner with Joyce, El had a sleepover with Max planned, so he was free. They were dancing around the kitchen, she was a terrible cook, so they kept it simple, just chicken, rice, and a strawberry salad she’d been daydreaming about. He watched her weave through the place, ordering the chaos, picking up sweaters and books and scraps of paper, flipping the chicken, turning down the rice, searching frantically through the drawers.
“Shit, I think Will has magnets on his desk, could you grab me some? He keeps drawing all these wonderful pictures.” She turned to him, her hair a tangled mess, her eyes ringed with shadows, and he thought very suddenly that he’d never seen anything more beautiful than her. “Hop?”
“Yeah, yeah, sure. Just a second.” He went down the hallway in a daze, opening the door to Will’s room without knocking. “Hey, kid, your mom needs…” The words died in his throat, Will Byers was perched in Mike Wheeler’s lap, so similarly to how his own daughter had been not hours earlier, this time, the Byers boy was holding Mike’s hair, and he was red as a cherry. Will made a strangled, embarrassed noise, and threw a pack of magnets at him.
“Get out!”
-
Mike was in his house again, and Jim was just about ready to strangle him. He was sandwiched between Will and El on his couch, they were all reading different comics, excitedly explaining anything she needed help understanding. Wheeler kept kissing his daughter on the cheek, and Byers was just watching them with sad as hell green eyes.
He felt an overwhelming sense of pity for the kid, clearly he was in love with Mike, and the little jackass was using him, cheating on El. Byers was just taking what he could get. Jim glared from the kitchen, getting angrier and angrier the longer he watched. Will whispered something to Mike, and they both laughed. Suddenly, a wrench was thrown in his version of the events, because Mike leaned forward, casual as anything, and kissed him on the mouth. El giggled right along with them, she had clearly seen it.
Maybe his eyes were playing some kind of trick on him, maybe he was making false connections. El grabbed Will’s hand, and kissed the back of it, and he went pink, they were all snuggled together- real close together, practically in each other’s laps. His daughter pecked Wheeler on the cheek, and motioned with her free hand, whispering something. Will did the same on his other side, and between them, Mike was bright red, absolutely fucking crimson.
He felt all the tension bleed out of his shoulders, the anger melting away. He didn’t understand it too well, but clearly they knew what they were doing. Wheeler looked so content, so adoring, full of love for the both of them.
Yeah. Jim thought, watching his daughter laugh and kiss Will Byers, both of them bright pink, all of them smiling so wide it almost looked like their faces would crack. Maybe they know what they’re doing.
