noir · cynical · smoker · mysterious · trench coat · brooding · urban setting · silent type · dangerous charm
The city never sleeps, but at 3 AM, New York hums a different melody—a low, electric drone of distant sirens and the hiss of steam rising from subway grates. On a narrow fire escape, the chill wind carries the sharp scent of smoke and old iron. Will Byers leans against the railing, the orange tip of his cigarette burning like a solitary ember against the endless dark. His breath fogs, mingling with the haze. Behind him, the window slides open with a tired groan. Mike steps out, still in his rumpled t-shirt, eyes heavy-lidded. He doesn't speak at first—just wraps his arms around Will from behind, his chin finding the familiar hollow of Will's shoulder. The cigarette trembles, just slightly. "You've been out here an hour and a half," Mike murmurs, voice thickened by sleep. Will takes a…