#mews

As long as he's cuddling with (Y/N) under a soft blanket on the couch, Jonathan doesn't care if he's watching a rom-com, a drama, or some telenovela. All that he cares about is spending time with his boyfriend and nuzzling against the crook of (Y/N)'s neck and smelling that sweet scent of soap from him—hmm, coconut, Jonathan's favorite.

The Byers teen feels his boyfriend's body shaking slightly, and a chuckle noise erupts from him, catching Jonathan's attention. He turns his attention to their small television as the most cliché of scenes plays—the guy struggling to climb his ass to the girl's window.

Jonathan scoffs.

"That's so cringe." He mumbles, rolling his eyes and resting his head against (Y/N)'s shoulder.

His boyfriend rolls his eyes and plants a kiss on Jonathan's soft, light brown hair, his eyes still glued to the TV.

"Don't be so moody, Jon," He replies, a hand instinctively going to play with Jonathan's locks. "Besides, I think it's cute."

"You do?" Jonathan turns to his boyfriend, raising an eyebrow. "What's cute about getting your ass on the roof?"

(Y/N) snorts and rolls his eyes at Jonathan's negative view and description of the scene.

"Because it's a way of saying, 'hey, I'd do anything to be with you,' you know?"

"No, I don't," Jonathan retorts, rolling his eyes."

"Ah, shush, Jonathan!" (Y/N) pokes at his ribcage, eliciting a surprised yelp from Jonathan, who jumps like a scared cat and almost falls off the couch.

"H-Hey!" He protests, feeling his cheeks growing red in embarrassment while his boyfriend laughs at his reaction. Despite it, though, Jonathan instinctively returns to his initial position of snuggling against the other boy—he just can't resist the warmth and comfort of (Y/N)'s body. "Ass." Though not without uttering a pouty insult that makes (Y/N) chuckle again.

The film continues to play, though now Jonathan can't help but think about what his boyfriend said about the act of climbing the window being a way of saying "I'd do anything to be with you."

He can't help but wonder...

What if...?

***

Tuesday night, 8:45

(Y/N) sat quietly in his bed, sketching something in his notebook—a drawing of Jonathan dressed as a knight and wielding a sword that he started sketching earlier today, during Math class. On his nightstand, a small radio plays his favorite song, "Eye in the Sky", by British rock band The Alan Parsons Project. He hummed along the song as he added some details to Jonathan's face—those two tiny moles he has on his lower left cheek and three others he has on his neck. (Y/N) loves kissing those moles, by the way.

It's a calm and tranquil night.

Until (Y/N) hears something outside—branches creaking, crushed underneath something. Or someone. The teenager immediately stiffens, setting the notebook aside and lowering the volume. He hears the noise again. And again. It's getting louder. Footsteps.

(Y/N) is naturally a jumpy person, and he'd rather be safe than sorry. He scrambled to his feet, turning off the light and grabbing a baseball bat he had under his bed from when he used to play with his father. He leans against the wall, next to the window, holding his breath as he hears it open. A shadow stumbles inside.

And (Y/N) reacts.

"FUCK OFF!" He bellows, swinging the bat and hitting the person on the chest, making them stumble back and fall through the window, landing on the grass outside with a loud thud, followed by a grunt of pain. "Get your ass back here, you burglar! I'm gonna show you what you get for— Jonathan?"

He blinks in confusion at seeing his boyfriend lying on the ground like a ragdoll after being hit by a, well, a baseball. Oh, dear. (Y/N) discards the baseball and leaps through the window to help his boyfriend stand up. Thank God his house is single-story, or else Jonathan would have fallen like an angel falling from Heaven—Jonathan is an angel, but he doesn't need to fall from the skies like one.

"Jonathan, what the hell, babe?!" (Y/N) whispers-yells in a mixture of concern, surprise, and lingering adrenaline.

Jonathan groans, rubbing the back of his head while trying to stand on his feet despite his legs being a little wobbly.

"Nice hit, babe," He comments, sarcastically. "Are you practicing for the next Basebyers season or something?"

(Y/N) rolls his eyes at the sarcasm. Yeah, he's alright. If Jonathan Byers is being sarcastic, then it means his ass is fine.

"Very funny, you ass," He retorts, the corner of his lips twitching as a smile threatens to appear. (Y/N) leaps back inside his room and helps Jonathan inside. "What were you thinking?"

"I was just trying to be romantic..." Jonathan mumbles, his eyes squinting as (Y/N) turns on the lights again.

"And since when is home invasion roman— wait," (Y/N) tilts his head slightly to the left and narrows his eyes, his brain slowly connecting the pieces of the puzzle.

Jonathan notices that and starts blushing. The boy bites his lower lip and averts his gaze.

"I-It's not..."

"Was it because I said it was cute? Because of that movie we watched?"

"... No..."

"Oh my God, it is!"

Jonathan blushes a shade of red that is so red scientists have yet to name it. For now, let's call it the "Jonathan Byers blushing" shade of red.

(Y/N) smiles at the sight of his flustered boyfriend and steps closer to him, wrapping his arms around Jonathan's waist.

"You were~!" He teases with a goofy grin, making Jonathan even more flustered.

The other boy grumbles under his breath, but doesn't try to break away from the hug.

"Shut up." He mumbles, feeling the tip of his ear getting red.

"Oh, you're so sweet, Jon." (Y/N) grins even more, nuzzling against Jonathan's hair and planting soft kisses on those cute moles he has on his cheek and neck. "But just a heads-up, usually in movies, the guy knocks on the window for the other to open. He doesn't enter the 'home invasion' territory."

Jonathan groans in embarrassment, rolling his eyes and wanting to disappear into thin air. Damn.

"Maybe you need to watch more rom-coms, Jonny~."

"Don't you even dare, (Y/N)," Jonathan shakes his head vehemently. He can only watch one cheesy rom-com per date for (Y/N)'s sake. "I don't hate myself enough to watch more of those. I already suffer enough with Bob and his love for Mr. Mom."

"Hey, don't say that!" (Y/N) playfully chides him by pinching Jonathan's cheek. "That's your future stepdad you're talking about."

"Shut up!" Jonathan groans again, seriously considering kissing his boyfriend to make him shut up.

You know what.

He might as well do that.

Jonathan turns around, grabbing (Y/N) by the waist and bringing him forward. Since Jonathan is shorter—only by a few centimeters—he has to stand on his tiptoes to reach his boyfriend's kissable lips. He leans forward, ready to capture those beautiful lips in his—

"(N/N), is everything alright there? I heard a—" The door suddenly swings open, and Jonathan pulls away from (Y/N) at lightspeed, trying to think of something to make the red in his cheeks go away—maybe those girl magazines Robin loves to see. Yeah, that always works. (Y/N)'s mother enters the room, smiling politely, but also in confusion, at seeing Jonathan there. "Oh, hey, Jonathan. I didn't know you were here—nor did I see you coming inside."

Jonathan smiled bashfully, scratching the back of his neck while trying to come up with a believable excuse.

"A-ah, yeah...I was...Uh..."

"J-Jonathan just stopped by to bring me some...stuff I forgot back in his house, mom," (Y/N) replies with a smile. "He didn't want to bother, so he knocked on my window and I...Invited him to come inside. Sorry..."

Jonathan nodded like a bubble-head toy as his boyfriend lied to his mother.

"Y-yeah, that's what happened." He says. "I just...Didn't want to bother you, Mrs. Henderson."

"Oh, you silly sweetheart," Claudia smiles and waves her hand dismissively. "You know you're never a bother, Jonathan. And how many times must I tell you to call me Claudia, hm?"

"R-right..." He smiles embarrassedly at her, glad that Claudia seems to have bought their lie.

"Just know you can come here at any time, Jonathan," Claudia smiled at him, giving Jonathan a motherly pinch on the cheek—something she always does to her sons' friends—before giving him a playful, pointed glare. "But through the front door."

Jonathan nods, his cheeks blushing that deep shade of red again, the "Jonathan Byers blushing" shade.

Claudia sends them both a smile before leaving the room. "Silly boys," she thought, shaking her head, "Ahh, to be young and in love." She left the door open, and Mews was quick to come running inside after smelling Jonathan's scent. She swiftly jumped on Jonathan's arms, taking the teenager by surprise—not too surprised, though, as Jonathan seems to be a magnet for animals. They all love him. Especially Mews.

The cat purrs, rubbing her head against his arm as Jonathan smiles and gently pats her orange fur with his other hand.

(Y/N) smiles and leans to kiss Jonathan on the corner of his lips, earning a slight blush from him.

"Should I be jealous that my cat prefers my boyfriend over me? Or should I be jealous my boyfriend is giving more attention to my cat than me?"

"Shut up..." Jonathan mumbles again, trying and failing miserably to sound annoyed, while turning to glance at (Y/N) with a hint of a smirk on his lips. "You're cuter than Mews."

"Shhhh, don't let her hear that." (Y/N) puts his finger over his lips, whispering, earning an amused chuckle from Jonathan.

Unbeknownst to both boys, Dustin saw them interacting from his room and raised an eyebrow suspiciously.

The boy closed his bedroom door and grabbed his radio from under the bed.

"Han Solo to Chewbacca, do you copy? Over."

The radio sizzled for a few seconds before a reply came through.

"Henderson," Steve Harrington replied, annoyed. "I am starting to regret accepting this radio from you—and is my codename Chewbacca again?! If anything, I should be Harrison Ford. I am as hot as he is!"

"..." Dustin waited, then replied. "Did you finish talking? I couldn't tell because you didn't say 'over'. Over."

"Bite me, dipshit." A pause. Then, "... Over."

"Ah, see? Much better!"

"Just tell me what the hell you want, Henderson! I'm kinda busy here!"

Dustin snorts.

"Yeah? What are you doing, hm? Jerki—"

"Don't. Finish. That. Sentence... Over."

The boy snorted again before replying.

"I just want to ask you something. How do I know if two people are in love? Over."

Steve sighed and rolled his eyes—Dustin felt that eye roll.

"Well, usually, people in love are always glued to each other. They do plenty of stuff together, always thinking of their loved ones first, ask their opinions all the time, shower them with gifts, and do stupid stuff for each other."

"..."

Steve sighed again.

"Over."

"Ah. Better." The boy replied.

"Why are you even asking me this, anyway? You think someone is in love with you or something?" He paused. "Over. Fucking annoying thing to do..."

Dustin contemplated how to phrase his next thoughts. How will he tell Steve? Ah-ha! He knows how.

"I think my brother is banging Will's brother."

"WHA—" Dustin flinches as Steve screeches, and a ruckus of noises erupts after—the sound of someone choking and coughing, something falling to the ground, a grunt of pain, and a few curses muttered. All because the button of Steve's radio jammed, and Dustin heard everything.

"Do you think I should tell Will our brothers are banging? Over."

"H-Henderson!" Steve coughed, trying to regain his composure—and failing miserably. "For the love of God, stop saying 'banging.' O-over..."

"But you said I can't say 'fuck'—"

"Shut. Up!" From the other side of the radio, Steve was blushing in embarrassment like crazy, flabbergasted.