It was New Year’s Eve in Hawkins, 1986—minutes away from becoming 1987. For once, the town was quiet. No sirens, no monsters, no emergency bike rides through the dark. Just… normal. And everyone was determined to enjoy that feeling while it lasted.

Mike’s basement was packed, warm from too many bodies and humming with low music from the radio. It smelled faintly of laundry detergent and old wood, like it always did—comforting in a way that made it feel like a second home. Christmas lights were strung haphazardly along the walls, casting soft reds and greens over everything.

Max and Lucas were curled up together on the couch, whispering and laughing way too close for comfort, earning exaggerated gagging noises from Dustin every few minutes. El sat cross-legged at the coffee table beside Mike, the two of them quietly talking and smiling at each other like they had their own private world. Mike barely looked away from her, and El’s laugh—soft and a little shy—cut through the room every time.

You, Dustin, and Will were sprawled on the floor in the middle of an aggressively competitive game of Uno. Cards were scattered everywhere, accusations of cheating were flying, and Dustin was being… well, Dustin—loud, dramatic, and way too confident for someone who was clearly losing.

“Reverse! Ha!” he yelled, slamming a card down.

“That doesn’t even help you,” you shot back, grinning as you played your own.

Will shook his head, smiling but quiet, watching the two of you go back and forth like it was a tennis match.

Then Lucas suddenly stood up. “C’mon! Three more minutes until the new year!” he yelled, loud enough to echo off the basement walls.

Everything shifted after that. Cards were abandoned mid-game, people scrambling to their feet, the radio volume turned up. Everyone started bunching together near the couch and coffee table, shoulders brushing, laughter filling the room as the countdown music began.

You barely had time to think before everyone started chanting along.

“Ten! Nine! Eight!”

Your heart started beating faster—not from the countdown, but from the way Dustin ended up next to you, closer than usual. His shoulder bumped yours, and neither of you moved away.

“Seven! Six!”

You glanced at him. He glanced back. His smile was smaller than normal, a little nervous, like he was debating something.

“Five! Four!”

Dustin gave you a tiny shrug, eyebrows lifting, his expression clearly saying I wouldn’t mind… if you wouldn’t mind. It wasn’t cocky or loud—just genuine. An invitation.

For a split second, your brain froze. You’d both always hovered in that awkward in-between space—lingering looks, inside jokes, sitting a little too close. Everyone else seemed to notice. Max had definitely noticed, never shutting up about it. Somehow, the two of you never quite did.

“Three! Two!”

Out of the corner of your eye, Dustin shot Will a quick apologetic look. Will smiled back, soft and understanding, even though he was about to be the only one without someone to kiss.

“One!”

The room erupted.

Mike and El kissed sweetly, Max pulled Lucas in by his jacket, and in the chaos and laughter and cheers, Dustin turned fully toward you. You didn’t overthink it this time. You leaned in.

It wasn’t dramatic or perfect—just warm and quick and real. His lips were soft, and he smiled against yours, like he couldn’t quite believe it was happening either.

When you pulled back, the basement was filled with whoops and clapping, Max yelling, “FINALLY!” from the couch.

Dustin’s ears were bright red, his grin unstoppable. “So… uh,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “happy New Year?”