#will beyers

"Hey, kiddo!" you said. You gave him a few moments to get settled in the passenger’s seat before shifting out of neutral and kicking it down the road. "Sorry for the upset. Jon got forced into a few extra hours of tag-along photography for a few last-minute stories, so he tapped me in. Hope ya don't mind."

"No, not at all!" Will paused his fiddling with fitting his backpack between his legs to shoot his smile in your direction. "Good to see you. You look… tired."

Comment aside, your smile grew when Will didn't deflate upon seeing you. Will was a pretty easy kid to read when you got to know him, something that quickly had become a mission of yours when you and Jonathan started dating and you had realized Will was probably in the first slot of Jonathan’s Important People list. He was an easy kid to get along with too; Will loved to be acknowledged and wanted, especially these days with his friends growing up and spreading out a bit more. Your genuine interest in getting to know and spending time with him, and Jonathan’s family as a whole, made you a fast and very welcome edition to the family— although that last part had yet to be said aloud. During your second dinner with Jon, Joyce, and Will, you had even helped Will convince the others to test out a beginner D&D campaign with Will as the very giddy DM.

You shrugged and admitted, "I am tired. Publication’s kicking our ass. Holidays, festivals, sports, elections, blah, blah, blah."

Will's grin cracked a bit wider. He loved when you cursed around him, treated him like a person instead of a fragile, broken little kid. What exactly happened to him, you had no idea, but you noticed not long after meeting him that he took to what little pieces of normalcy he could get these days like a fish to water.

"Sorry," he said with a sympathetic furrow of his brows. "Are you hanging out until Jonathan is off? My mom keeps these little eye ice packs in the freezer for when she gets headaches. You can use them, if you want. They might help… your… eyes."

Will became flustered as he trailed off, realizing what he said could be considered unkind. He let out a little huff of relief when you just laughed at the comment instead.

You’d seen yourself in the mirror these days. Hair always a little unkempt no matter how hard you tried. Bags and deep shadows under your eyes and red tinging the edges of your scleras, evidence of not having a proper rest in weeks. The one thing you had managed to keep track of these days was eating properly—spending most nights, and thus mornings, at the Beyers household where Joyce insisted everyone eat meals together helped considerably with that—and yet you were still starting to look gaunt, like you hadn’t eaten anything other than coffee and plain toast for the last month. 

Will went to apologize for his comment but you waved a dismissive hand at him. "I might take you up on that offer. I dunno, you mind hanging out with an old loser until your family gets off?"

Will snorted. "I mean, I hang out with Jonathan all the time."

You cackled again. 

"You wanna help me with my english homework?" Will asked, as airily as he might have asked his mom or Jonathan himself. "We’re writing a sequel story to a novel we read in class. I got the story-writing down, I just need someone else to proofread. Mike was going to but…"

You tsked, albeit goodnaturedly. "Those Wheelers."

Will chuckled, more on the sad side. Out of the corner of your eye you could see him deflate a bit. "Yeah, yeah… Those Wheelers…"

You pulled up to a spotlight and glanced around at the shops nearby. Spotting a local pizza joint that you knew was good, you clapped your hands on the steering wheel before veering into the nearest turn lane. Will yelped and clung to his seat as the car lunched in response.

"Sounds fun," you told him. "Why not make a deal of it? Pizza sound good? Your ma and Jon are both out late this evening and I know you know your way around the kitchen about as well as I do, meaning not at all."

Will smiled again as you jerkily pulled into a spot in front of the pizza place, accidentally cutting off another driver in the process. While you were busy parking, he threw a half-assed apologetic wave out the window. "Yeah, sounds good."

You pulled the keys out of the ignition and popped your door open. "Hell yeah. Now tell me what happened in science class."

~~~~~

A few hours had passed, long enough that any light outside had finally vanished. A pizza, a proofread, and some chatting later, you were sprawled across one side of the Beyers' couch. Your head was tilted back against one of the couch’s arms and Joyce’s ice packs rested across your eyes. Will was right; they were certainly helping the perpetual burning feeling that you’d been dealing with lately.

Will was sitting in an arm chair nearby, scribbling away at a sketch book. The cheap TV Joyce picked up from work on a holiday sale droned on with some movie from the 50s, but you and Will were busy enthralled in a character creation game.

You heard the clatter of dice as Will rolled it on the coffee table twice. Then he asked you, "Okay, 5 or 13?"

You hummed and danced your fingers across the back of the couch as you thought. Both were solid numbers. "What are we picking for again?"

"Class," Will answered. "You know, like bard, paladin, barbarian."

"Mm. 13."

"Ooh, paladin orc," Will mumbled, more to himself. You heard him push the dice to the side as the sounds of him drawing picked up again.

"Now, did you say you were making this guy for me or—"

A shrill ring from the nearby telephone cut you off, followed by shuffling as Will put his things to the side. "I got it."

You shot him a thumbs up and remained otherwise immobile as he got up and walked over to the phone. It was attached to one of the walls closest to you, so you didn’t have to strain your ears too hard to hear Jon’s frantic voice on the other end.

Will chirped as he picked up, "Hello?" 

"Oh thank god," you heard Jon’s staticky voice breathe, "you did make it home."

Shit, you thought, knew I forgot to do something when we got here.

"Hey, uh, is Maddock the Magnificent there?" Jonathan went on. "They were supposed to pick me up. I stopped by their place and they’re not home either…?"

"Shit!" You sat up fast enough to give yourself a head rush. The eye pads dropped into your lap, and you picked them up with one hand while you used the other to hold your head. You groaned and raised your voice enough for Jonathan to hear. "I’m so sorry, Jon! We got busy with homework, and I bought a pizza, and then we were playing games—!"

Something akin to a sigh came from the phone’s speaker, then Jon was raising his voice as well. Will quickly veered his head to the side to avoid the ear damage and held the receiver out in your direction.

"No, no, it’s fine!" Jonathan said, and you could vaguely hear the shuffling of fabric as he waved his hands despite you not being there to see it. "I just wanted to make sure you and Will were safe. Your bike was still here from when you took it to work the other day, I just grabbed it. I’m ten, maybe fifteen minutes away."

Head rush abated, you stood and took the receiver from Will. He smiled and side-stepped you to go back to his project; you gave him a shoulder squeeze as he went before scooting closer to the phone and putting the receiver to your ear. "You sure you don’t want me to come get you? It’s dark out and my light is shit. Where are you?"

Jonathan chuckled. "Yeah, no, your light is definitely shit. Public pay phone near Melvald‘s, I stopped by to bring Mom dinner. Bought you a new light while I was there.”

“Aw, hon’…”

Jonathan interjected before you could go off rambling again. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it. Just stick with Will, okay? I'll be home in a bit.”

You sighed. 

“Dont pout.” You could hear the teasing lilt in your boyfriend’s voice. 

You pouted harder. “I’m not pouting.”

Jonathan chuckled again, soft and sweet and kinda shy like it always was, even after months of dating. “Yeah, you are. I can hear it.”

You clicked your tongue at him before finally giving in. “Fine, but if you’re not here in twenty Will and I are going Jonathan hunting.”

You and Will grinned at each other as you shot him a conspiratorial wink.

“Deal,” Jonathan said.

“Oh, also we bought a couple pizzas, since we weren’t sure how long we’d have to fend for ourselves. There’s quite a bit left, I can warm up some for you?”

A little bit of a shuffle as Jonathan nodded. Then he realized you still couldn’t see him and vocalized, “Oh, uh, yeah, sure. Sounds good. See you soon.”

~~~~~

Jonathan made good time, biking up the hill to the Beyers house with a couple minutes to spare. Damn, the new light he put on your bike was a nice one.

You were keeping an eye out for him near the living room window, so you walked out to meet him, huffing and puffing, on the porch. You quickly collected him in your arms, and he gave you a gentle lift into the air as he hugged you before setting you back down. Then he pressed a kiss to your forehead and pressed his face into your neck. Even over the fabric of your shirt and sweater, you could feel how cold his hands and face were.

You tsked at him, grabbing his reddened face in your hands and squishing his cheeks in attempt to warm them. “Look at you, you're freezing. You couldn’t have waited with your mom for a few minutes while I came and got you?”

Jonathan just smiled, squishy-faced, at you before leaning in to give you a kiss—which you begrudgingly gave into. Even his lips were frozen. When he pulled away, he asked, “How’s he doin’? Was he mad?”

“Nah, Will likes me,” you answered. You switched from squishing your partner’s face to cupping his hands in yours and blowing warm air across them. “Homework done. Food taken care of. We played a game where he designed a D&D character for me, so Maddock the Magnificent might have a new face soon. Maybe you and he can play and give Philip the… the Ph-Ph-Ph… Damn, what was it?”

“Philanthropic, I think.”

“Mm. Give Philip the Philanthropic a new face too.”

Jonathan just kept on smiling, and rested his forehead against yours. “Sounds fun.”

“It is fun,” you replied, smiling back and gently bumping your nose against his. “Mike called to apologize, he was supposed to proofread a story for him. They’re chatting now.”

“Hm.” Jonathan pecked your lips again before stepping back to pull you back toward the front door. “You're good with him.”

You shrugged. “What can I say? The Beyers are an incredibly easy family to love.”

A quick jolt of satisfaction surged through you when Jon’s smile grew wider, his cheeks blushing red from warmth this time. The satisfaction settled into something softer and fuzzier in your stomach as he pulled your hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to your knuckles. Ever a gentleman, then he pulled the front door open for you and guided you inside with a hand pressed into your lower back.

You could practically see the theoretical ice melt off Jonathan’s form as he stepped into the warm house, shoulders and head immediately sagging as he let out a grateful sigh. In better light, he looked just about as exhausted as you felt these days. You knew Will saw it too, as soon as he looked over from his place hovering by the phone, but that didn't stop Jon from doing his protective older brother shtick that made him puff up to full height again. He let you go and walked over to ruffle his little brother’s hair and ask if they could talk a second.

“Yeah, of course,” Will answered. He quickly turned back to the receiver to let Mike know he’d be right back before setting it aside and giving Jonathan a proper hug. “What’s up?”

Jonathan hugged Will back tight, like he was forever worried the younger boy would slip right through his fingers. You supposed he probably was. 

“So,” Jonathan started as he pulled back from the hug and rested his hands on Will’s shoulders. “Mom’s not coming home tonight. Boss stole her for an overnight for the last weekend before Thanksgiving.”

Will frowned. “What? That’s bullshit!”

“Hey, language,” Jon scolded, but you caught the amused twinkle in his eye. “… Not wrong, though. She’s going to be fine, though. I checked up with her before I headed here, brought her food, and I’ll swing by in the morning and pick her up so she doesn’t have to drive. Anyway. On the bright side, I heard you got all your homework and stuff done?”

Will, still clearly disappointed, nodded. 

“Kid’s a goddamn whiz,” you piped up, “it’s crazy. Science. Math. And and writer and artist? What can't he do?”

You walked over and gave Will’s a ruffle of your own, and he perked up a bit under the attention.

“And you ate?” Jonathan asked.

Will nodded again.

“Meds? Good?”

“Yeah, Jonathan, relax.”

Jon snorted at his brother’s attitude, then smiled. “Alright, then, here’s what I’m thinking. Invite Mike over. Dustin and Lucas too, if you want.”

Will straightened up, eyes sparkling with excitement. From sad to almost vibrating with energy, at a drop of a hat. “Really?”

You could most see Jonathan absorbing some of the energy Will was now giving off, standing straighter and brushing off some of his own tiredness as he went on, “Yeah, really. Play a campaign, hang out, have fun. They can sleep over or something if you want. We—“ Jonathan paused to nod his head in your direction. “—are still going to be around, though, so try not to wreck the place, alright?”

Will nodded his head so fast it made your neck ache sympathetically. “Yeah, yeah, okay! That sounds great! Thanks!”

“Consider it an apology for the messy afternoon.” Jonathan finally released Will, who immediately picked up the phone again and startled babbling again. He took a moment to go drop off his bag and jacket by the front door before moving toward the hall that would lead back to his bedroom. He beckoned you with a tired crook of his finger, and once you trailed after him, nodded at Will to get his attention again. “Hey. Just let me know what you decide on doing. If anyone needs a ride, we can pick ‘em up.”

~~~~~

You were sprawled out across Jonathan’s bed, foot bouncing to the beat of the music playing low on his stereo. You were gnawing on a pizza crust as you waited for him to return. Work clothes long forgotten in a pile near his closet, you were now dressed down in one of Jonathan’s old sweatshirts from high school and a pair of your own pajama pants that now basically lived in one of his drawers.

After a few more minutes, the wait was over. Jon shimmied in and quickly shut the door, turning the ruckus of six children building a couch fort in the living room to a steady buzz of background noise. Yes, six children instead of four, because Will had been convinced to invite Eleven and Max as well, after a Lucas-Max duo of suggesting a superhero-themed D&D campaign instead of the usual medieval setting. Not only was Will appreciative of Max and El finally taking a chance on his favorite game, despite the offer apparently sounding half-assed, but the creative in him couldn’t stop the sudden myriad of campaign ideas from bubbling up. Either way, it sounded like everyone was enjoying themselves for the time being. 

When Jonathan finally turned to you, you flopped back on the bed with a laugh. He was grinning like a thief having gotten away with the perfect crime, his crime of choice being sneaking into the kitchen and stealing a few more slices of pizza before the gremlins outside ate them all. He held a single plate with a leaning tower of pizza, and an additional piece was hanging by the crust from his mouth as he shuffled over to the bedside. When he was close enough, he leaned down so you could rescue the piece dangling from his lips—which you immediately claimed as yours by taking a bite out of it—before setting the plate on the makeshift table of hardcover books near the foot of the bed and crawling into bed next to you. 

“Everyone doing okay?” You asked, then grinned as you watched him flop over in a heap next to you.

Jon’s own work clothes were long gone, replaced by the most basic combo of grey sweatpants and a grey sweatshirt. He just grunted an affirmation and remained in a pile on the bed, looking vaguely like a corpse. Or, perhaps, a somewhat sentient pile of grey fabric.

You snorted and tossed your pizza on the plate with the others. After wiping your hands and mouth clean from grease and crumbs, you half-wobbled, half-crawled across the bed closer to Jonathan. Then you let yourself fall, draping your body awkwardly across your boyfriend's form with a comfortable little oomph. Underneath you, Jonathan was smirking—and let out a groan of fake pain. It earned him a swat to the shoulder, which made him snicker and lightly paw you back. 

What followed was the sleepiest, slowest, least competitive slap fight known to man as the two of you batted each other back and forth. In the process, you found yourselves rolling around amongst the bedding until finding a more comfortable position of Jon lying stretched out on his back with you resting across his chest and lap. The slap fight settled as you and Jonathan cozied down, what little energy either of you had left after the long day—and week, and month—finally drained out of you. One of Jon's arms stretched out above his head while the other found its way around your back, fingers massaging circles into muscles that you hadn't even realized were beginning to ache. You rested one of your arms on his chest to put your chin on and your other hand carded its fingers through his increasingly unruly brown hair. The two of you just rested there in silence for a bit, admiring each other with slow blinks and lazy smiles despite your matching exhausted, unkempt, baggy-eyed appearances.

Finally, Jonathan let out a deep sigh and grumbled, "I think I might be 50 by the time busy season finishes. They'll have sleep-deprived the age outta me."

You chuckled and nodded. "But, hey, a publication almost entirely of your photography? With your name in the credits? That's pretty awesome work, Jon."

Jonathan hummed in agreement. "Front page story, plus a full spread in the paper isn't too bad either."

"Look at us, doing things. Go us." You let out a tired whoop and did a partial fist-pump before collapsing fully against his chest. Jon's arms settled around you in response.

The conversation lulled again for a bit. You closed your eyes and were letting yourself being pulled into a partial doze by the steady beat of Jonathan's heart before he spoke up again.

"Thanks again for picking up Will, by the way," he mumbled. He had his head nuzzled into the top of your head now, his warm breath against your scalp sending a tingle down your spine. 

It took a moment or two for your brain to boot back up enough to respond. Still, your words were a bit slurry. "Yeah, 'f course. Sorry I forgot to pick you up. And that you and yer mom both had to work late. It is total bullshit she got stuck there overnight."

"Yeah, no kidding. But Thanksgiving and all, I guess..." Jonathan trailed off, and you thought for a moment that he dozed off himself. Then one of his hands picked up their gentle massage of your back as he went on, "Speaking of Thanksgiving... You doing anything for it? Traveling home or anything?"

You shook your head slightly, which quickly turned into a nuzzle into the crook of neck. "Nah. Never been a Thanksgiving fan, much more of a Halloween and Christmas person. Hell, even Easter. I love candy eggs."

Jonathan's chuckle was soft. It paired with the dance of fingers along the ridges of your spine sent warmth flurrying throughout your body.

"Well," he said, "maybe it's not your thing but, uh... If you don't have plans and want a place to go, I'm sure Mom and Will would be happy to let you join."

You smirked and finally raised your head to look at him again. You narrowed your tired, burny eyes and ran a single finger down the bridge of his nose before tapping the end of it. "And you?"

Jon spluttered and blushed in the way you've now realized all Beyers did when they got embarrassed about saying something wrong. When you snickered at him, the spluttering turned into a playful scowl. 

"Teaser," Jon grumbled at you. 

You mock-gasped back at him. "Me? No! Just admiring how much you and Will are your mother's kids. Will gave me the exact same look earlier when he thought I was going to get pissed about a comment about my eyes."

Jonathan quirked a curious eyebrow at that. "What'd Will say about your eyes?"

"That I looked tired, and he was right." You chuckled and tapped Jonathan's nose with your finger again. "Now quit avoiding my question. Mr. Jonathan Beyers, are you inviting me to Thanksgiving?"

Your boyfriend released an incredulous huff of a laugh at his brother's shenanigans and rolled his eyes. Then those eyes shifted immediately, turning a much softer gaze back on you. 

"Yeah," he said quietly, arms tightened around you,"I want you at Thanksgiving with me, if you want to be there. Christmas, too. All holidays until further notice."

A ridiculously cheesy grin found its way onto your face before you could do anything to stop it. You feigned considering the offer with a hum before moving in close to press a peck to his lips. "Yeah, okay, I think I'm free all holidays until further notice. I'll make sure to pen you in."

Jonathan, who had melted against you when you kissed him, let his eyes flutter back open. He smiled in that crooked, still somehow shy way of his as he gave you a little kiss of his own. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," you repeated, giving him a firm nod. "I like you guys quite a bit, you know. Certainly like you."

Jon's smile grew bigger and he rested his forehead against yours. "Mm. Like you a lot too."

You leaned in for another smooch and he quickly followed your lead—only for a jarringly loud stomach grumble to interrupt.

Jonathan flopped back against the mattress and flung an arm over his eyes. "It shouldn't be allowed for me to be both tired and hungry. That's illegal."

"The truest of crimes." You chuckled as you sat up. You took a moment to get comfortable on his lap, and smirked when you felt his thighs clenched in response to your new position, before leaning over to drag the pizza pile closer. 

As if Jonathan's hungry stomach had unleashed all hell, there was suddenly a loud pounding on the bedroom door, followed by Dustin's yelling. "Jonathan! Jonathan! Did you take the last of the pepperoni pizza? I know you did! I saw you sneaking out of the kitchen earlier!" 

You gaped at Jonathan as he jolted up into a sitting position. "You stole the last of the pizza?"

Jonathan gripped your shoulders and stared at you in an overly serious manner. "Take what you can. Run. Hide. I'll hold them off for as long as I can. If I don't make it back, just know that I love you."

"I love you too," You said mid-cackle, then slipped off his lap. You grabbed the plateful of pizza and balanced it in your arms as you hopped to your feet. Jonathan jumped to his feet after you and, after tossing him a slice from the top to quell his growling stomach, you went to squeeze into his closet while he headed for the door to fend off the younguns.

~~~~~

You were woken up the next morning by a hand brushing your hair out of your face so Jonathan could press the sweetest of kisses against your forehead. Your body reacted immediately, stretching deep under the warm covers and breaking into a yawn as you squinted up at your boyfriend. He was smiling down at you, already dressed for the day in faded jeans and a plaid flannel. 

As you moved to sit up, he waved a hand at you to pause. While your mind pouted at the action, your body—screaming with the soreness of sitting hunched over a desk for several days—appreciated the care.

Jonathan whispered, "It's really early, go back to sleep. I'm going to pick up Mom and maybe grab some breakfast so no one has to cook. Be back in a bit, okay?"

Your body was already sinking back into the mattress while you half-asked, half-slurred, "S... Y'sure y' don't wan' me... to come with?"

Jonathan shook his head, smiling bigger at the fact he'd won the practically nonexistent battle of you trying to join him. He helped you snuggle back down by re-tucking the blankets around you, then dropped another kiss on the top of your head before making his way out of the bedroom. He left the door cracked when he went, as per Joyce's rule when you were staying over, even despite your and Jonathan's ages. 

You listened, already half-asleep, and Jonathan padded down the hall and to the living room, where it sounded like he also woke Will up briefly. Some mumbling between the siblings occurred before more footsteps, then the sound of the front door opening and closing as quietly as Jonathan could manage. In the quiet of the early morning, you could hear his car start up and start its slow descent down the hill from the Beyers house.