Chapter Text
Mike tapped his pencil against his math exam, cupping his cheek with one hand and staring lovingly, almost desperately, at the clock. Three minutes. Just three more minutes until sweet, beautiful freedom.
He hadn’t studied at all, as he stayed up all night playing DnD with Lucas and Dustin. They were planning this campaign for weeks, and it got so exciting that they accidentally played all night.
He didn’t really care about his grades in math, but he was sure to get an earful from his mother, because she unfortunately did.
He tried to keep his eyes on his exam, but this irritating, agitating voice, was playing with his concentration. He turned his head toward it.
His classmates were whispering to each other. As he had nothing better to do than to wait, he decided to divert his attention to them.
“Have you heard about the new assistant nurse?” Diane whispered, tapping her sneaker against her friend’s chair leg.
Jessica turned around, eyebrows raised. “Assistant nurse? Is she nice?”
“Actually it’s a he,” Diane said, popping her gum. “And apparently he’s pretty cute.”
Their conversation ended abruptly with the Teacher telling Diane to take her gum out.
She froze, cheeks heating, and hurried up to toss it in the trash. Mike ducked his head, pretending he was focused.
The second she sat back down, the bell finally rang.
Mike sagged in relief, gathering his stuff. “Finally,” he muttered under his breath.
—
The cafeteria was buzzing ; trays clattering, kids shouting over each other, half the student body cutting in line like absolute menaces, begging to get some food.
Mike rolled his eyes, instead of grabbing a tray, he made his way over to the very excited Dustin who was waving him over.
“Mike! Mike! Over here!”, He exclaimed, excitedly waving him over as if they don’t sit at that exact table everyday.
“Hey guys.” Mike said as he slid into the seat beside Lucas. The other boy patted his back in greeting.
“Everyones talking about the new assistant nurse. I heard his name was William.” Dustin said, both hands on his cheeks as arched his back to get closer to the boys in front of him.
Lucas squinted, munching on a fry he’d stolen from someone’s tray. “What’s so exciting about a new assistant nurse? Nobody even goes to the nurse’s office. People barely get hurt.”
Mike shrugged in response, seeming out of it. His brain was still fried from the test.
“Well,” Dustin started, “It doesnt have to be an injury. Some kids go for headaches, some for stomach aches.. yada yada, anything to get out of class.”
“This is such a non-issue,” Lucas groaned. “Why are we listing medical excuses right now?”
“I visit the nurse often,” Dustin said proudly. “Preferably when I have French with Mrs. Musk.”
“You lyin’! you love that damn woman!”
The boys continued bickering and yelling ‘Objection!’ and adding in new arguments until the bell finally rang.
—
P.E. was barely two minutes in when Dustin found himself sitting on the wet grass, water soaking through his shorts.
He groaned dramatically, his teammates shooting him a glare for fucking up while Troy smirked like he’d just won an award.
It had stormed the day before, turning the entire field into a nightmare. Mud soaking through everyone’s socks and the grass being slippery.
Everyone complained, but Dustin got the shortest end of the stick ; literally sitting on the wet grass.
Earlier, he’d watched Troy trip a kid from the other team then celebrate like he’d scored in the World Cup as he slammed in his fifth goal.
Dustin shoved him in annoyance; Troy shoved him way harder. The cycle continued until the PE teacher stormed over and lectured them about “sportsmanship” and “teamwork”.
When Dustin finally got the ball again, Troy came barreling toward him at full force, sending him flying onto the ground.
Now his knee throbbed under the layer of mud and grass, but anger burned so hot in his chest that he barely registered the pain.
He dug his nails into his palms, jaw tight.
One of his teammates plopped down next to him. “Dude, you should get that looked at. Looks nasty.”
He pointed at Dustin’s knee, mud smeared everywhere, but the streak of blood trickling down his calf was impossible to miss. Must’ve been a rock. Just his luck.
Dustin let out a long sigh and stood up, cringing as he brushed the wet dirt off his hands.
“I’m gonna go to the nurse’s office. I scraped my knee.”
“Fine,” the coach said, disappointment dripping from every syllable. “But make it fast.”
—
Dustin pushed open the door to the nurse’s room, the hinges giving a quiet creak.
The space inside was small and a little cluttered, Two fold-out beds from storage laid open with two students sitting on them, legs dangling.
They watched the third bed like it was the center of the universe.
Dustin followed their gaze.
A boy in a male nurse’s uniform knelt beside the third student, working with careful, steady hands. Time felt slow for a moment. The student being treated looked absolutely enchanted, staring down at him as if the boy had floated down from heaven.q
Dustin couldn’t blame him.
Hazel eyes, a small mole above his lip, a sharp, pretty nose.
And god those soft pink lips.
The boy’s brows were drawn in concentration as he wrapped the student’s arm with clean, practiced precision.
Even on his knees he moved with this calm demeanour, checking the bandage, adjusting it, asking something soft under his breath as he looked up into the students eyes with care and concern.
Whatever he said made the student turn bright red and try to stutter out a reply before scrambling off the bed.
The student hurried past Dustin toward the next room, probably to call his parents, while the nurse-boy finally looked up at him.
His eyes met Dustin’s. Well, obviously.
And Dustin’s stomach twisted so violently he thought he might fold in half. His chest tightened, heartbeat skipping a step. The two students behind the nurse watched the interaction, eyes completely focused on the nurse.
“Hi,” the boy said, rising to his feet. “It’d be great if you could check in with Mrs. Schmidt first, before I treat you.” His voice was warm, polite. He looked up into his eyes, being barely shorter than Dustin. “Thanks!”
“Y-yeah,” Dustin managed, voice unsteady. “Yeah, I’ll… go do that.”
He entered Mrs. Schmidt’s main office, leaving the door half-open behind him for the student who was just coming out of it.
“Mrs. Schmidt?” Dustin asked, stepping into her cramped little office. “Uh.. I’m here for… a scraped knee?” he said, sounding unsure of his reasoning.
She didn’t even look up from her paperwork. “Yes, yes. Whatever excuse you’ve come up with to see Will, I’m sure it’s completely legitimate. Off you go.”
Dustin blinked. “Sure,” he muttered, spinning back around.
He heard Mrs. Schmidt muttering a ‘all this bullshit..’ under her breath.
He returned to the other room just in time to see the pretty nurse waving goodbye to the last of his earlier patients. Then he turned toward Dustin again, smile soft and bright.
“Hey! What can I help you with?”
“Scraped knee,” Dustin said, lowering himself onto one of the beds.
Will’s eyes flicked down, widening. “Oh, wow. That’s deep. Might need stitches.” He said, gasping slightly.
He knelt in front of Dustin, the overhead light catching on the edge of his nametag.
William Byers.
William hummed thoughtfully before getting up and collecting supplies from a metal drawer. Gauze, disinfectant, a tray of tools he set beside himself on the floor.
He didn’t seem bothered by the cramped space; he moved like he’d already learned how to make it work.
“Alright,” he said gently. “Might be a little cold, so hold on tight!” His voice getting high pitched at the end.
‘Cute.’ Dustin thought, before getting hit with a truck.
He hissed as the disinfectant hit his skin, burning like fire.
“Sorry,” Will murmured, face drawn with sympathy, slowing his movements. His hands were warm where they steadied Dustin’s leg, grounding him without even trying.
The pain dulled, or maybe Dustin just got too distracted by the closeness.
Will wiped away mud and dried blood, then stood long enough to grab a needle and surgical thread. When he came back down, the thread hung lightly between his soft pink lips. Dustin felt like his eyes were drawn to them specifically.
“You won’t feel a thing,” he promised, voice muffled. “Just try to relax.”
Relax. Right. Easier said than done when William’s hand wrapped lightly around his knee.
“Want to talk about something? Helps take your mind off it,” Will offered, settling comfortably as he positioned the needle.
“Yeah,” Dustin said, voice embarrassingly soft.
“What happened?” Will asked, pushing the needle through Dustin’s skin with delicate precision. “That’s a pretty rough scrape.”
“F-football,” Dustin said, wincing, not from pain but from the uncomfortable feeling. “Some guy shoved me during PE.”
Will hummed sympathetically, focused entirely on the small, neat stitches he was making. Three in total.
He cut the thread between his teeth, the tiny snap echoing in Dustin’s chest more than the room.
He rose from his spot to check his work, grabbed a bandage and cotton pad, then bent back down. The bandage rested briefly on Dustin’s thigh, making heat crawl straight up his neck.
Will dabbed away the remaining blood. For a moment, he looked up at Dustin like he was checking for pain, or maybe something else.
The eye contact lasted just long enough to make Will’s ears turn pink.
He broke the gaze with a soft laugh.
Dustin couldn’t think. All he could do was stare. His eyelashes, his mouth, the way his cheeks warmed. Every detail was suddenly so important to him.
“Mr… Byers?” Dustin asked, almost whispering.
Will chuckled. “Just call me Will.”
Dustin stared at him for another moment before continuing.
“Thank you,” He mumbled, dazed.
Will grabbed the bandage from Dustin’s lap, his warm hand touching Dustin’s thigh, and smoothed it over the stitches with gentle thumbs. Then he stood back up again.
“No need to thank me. I’m happy to help,” he said quietly, his voice laced with care. He gave the knee one final look. “There. All done. Does that feel alright?”
Dustin swallowed. “Y-yeah.”
Will suddenly leaned a little closer, squinting at his face. “Do you want to get checked for a fever? You’re really red.”
Before Dustin could react, Will lifted his chin softly, swishing his face side to side to check his cheeks. He put the back of his palm on Dustin’s forehead, letting his chin go.
“N-no! I’m fine,” Dustin sputtered, shooting up from the bed on instinct.
Worst idea in his stupid chungus life. They were suddenly inches apart.
Will blinked, startled, and stepped back. Dustin felt like he might combust on the spot.
“T-thanks,” Dustin blurted, practically fleeing to the door. He yanked it open, limping. “Bye, Will!”
“W-wait! Take it-”
The door slammed shut.
“…easy,” Will finished to an empty room.
With a long sigh, he turned and headed toward Mrs. Schmidt’s office.