I haven't written for Stranger Things before, so pardon me if I was too cliche with it. It's just a Mileven oneshot with your average dose of fluff and microwavable waffles.

Disclaimer: I do not own Stranger Things.

"Mike!" Nancy's voice echoed through the house, waking Mike up at an ungodly hour (because, to a thirteen year old boy, eight is an ungodly hour).

At first, Mike ignored her without so much as a grumble. He pulled his covers around him and tried to block out both his sister's voice and the sunlight now creeping in through the window. But for whatever reason, Nancy wasn't having it. She had walked up to his room and knocked on his door.

"Let me sleep, Nance!" He groaned, "It's early,"

"Just come downstairs, Mike," Nancy said. She had entered his room.

Mike sat up, squinting in the brightness. Nancy had a small smile threatening its way onto her lips, and she stared at him expectantly. Seeing as Nancy wasn't about to budge any time soon, Mike shook his head and gave up on his fight.

"Come on, you nerd," Nancy said, teasingly, as she led him downstairs.

"What exactly am I supposed to be -?" Mike started to ask, but he closed his mouth as soon as he reached the bottom of the stairs, "El!"

Mike was suddenly very aware of how disheveled his hair was, and he was very, very aware of his Ghostbuster's pajama pants. He guessed his face had turned noticeably red (when didn't his face flush around Eleven?), because Hopper, who had been standing right behind the girl, nudged her an inch closer to Mike.

El gladly walked the other four feet on her own and wrapped her arms around Mike. The two had a habit of hugging for a prolonged amount of time since Eleven's return. The others couldn't blame them; they were scared of losing each other, scared that if they were separated again...well, it might last a lot longer than three-hundred and fifty-three days.

After several moments, they broke apart with flushed faces. Mike realized that his parents, Nancy, and Hopper were all watching the two. Eleven just beamed; she wasn't phased.

"You guys hungry?" Mrs. Wheeler asked, attempting to break some of the tension in the room. She flashed a smile at El, "I have Eggos,"

"Oh, she already ate brea -" Hopper started to say, but Eleven cut in:

"Always room for Eggos,"

"Mind your manners, girl," Hopper warned, but there was a playful undertone to his voice.

A half hour later, after Hopper had left for work and the rest of them had polished off their waffles, Mike and Eleven retired to the basement fort.

"You kept it. Why?" El asked, running her finger over a sheet.

"We've been down here before, El," Mike told her. Sure, she knew he'd kept it. It just hadn't really occurred to her why; she wanted to know.

"I know. But you've never told me why. I want to know why," She said.

"I don't know. I guess I just never thought to take it down," Mike told her, looking at the overhead blanket.

Eleven replied sternly, "Mike,"

"Hm?"

"Friends don't lie."

"Right..." Mike said, wondering how he could have ever thought she'd believe that. She had a knack for reading people, especially Mike, "I wasn't ready to let go. It was the last thing I had that reminded me of..."

Eleven knew where the end of his sentence was going. She reached for his hand, lacing her fingers with his.

"I'm not going anywhere," Eleven said, staring at him intently, "Promise,"

He gave her a weak smile when she squeezed his hand. El looked over to the side and noticed a baseball cap discarded on the floor. She picked it up, wiped the blood off her nose with the hand that wasn't clasping Mike's (she hadn't wanted to let go just to retrieve a hat), and placed the ratty old cap on her head.

"Pretty?" She asked jokingly.

Mike grinned. He didn't even think about what he was about to say before it was out of his mouth, "Beautiful,"

He blushed furiously after he realized what he had just said, and Eleven's complexion was beginning to match it. She knew what beautiful meant. "More than pretty", Hopper had told her. Mike hadn't ever called her that. It felt...nice.

The two didn't say anything, but they didn't break eye contact. Mike's heart started pounding. He began to lean forward, almost subconsciously; it was as if he wasn't even in control of his motions.

They were barely an inch apart, close enough for Eleven to see the caramel colored flecks hiding in Mike's dark eyes, when the door to the basement slammed open.

"MIKE! I'VE GOTTA BEAT MAX AT DIG DUG, COME ON!" Dustin yelled, trudging down the steps. Eleven backed away from Mike hurriedly and removed the hat, "YOU WEREN'T ANSWERING YOUR RADIO, SO I -oh, shit. That's why. Shit, my bad,"

Mike looked at his friend -quite awkwardly, might I add- and then back to Eleven, and back to Dustin, and then to the floor, where his gaze stuck.

"Well, uh...yeah. I'm gonna go to the arcade, you two...alrighty, take care!"

Dustin left -also quite awkwardly-, leaving Mike and Eleven alone again.

"You really do look beautiful, you know," Mike said nervously. Eleven grabbed his hand again, only this time, she pecked him softly on the cheek.

Friends don't lie, Eleven thought, he think's I'm more than pretty.