Chapter Text
As they drove away from the wreckage, Mike took Will’s hand. Not even really as a secret, just something real that felt absolutely necessary.
He didn’t care what Steve might’ve assumed. All that mattered was the way Will’s fingers curled gently around his, how neither of them flinched when the other squeezed too tight, as if holding on was the only thing keeping them anchored.
Mike almost felt disappointed when the radio station shortly came into view. Breaking the contact took effort as he sighed and forced himself into neutral mode.
“Don’t worry.” Will whispered as he slipped under Mike’s arm to help him walk. “Soon it’ll be just us again.” As the chaos of the room closed in, the words echoed quietly in Mike’s mind as a beacon of hope he’d cling to.
Dr. Owens was quick to fix them up. He treated Will first, carefully examining the gnarly gash on his bicep. Despite how bad it looked, it was shallow enough to avoid deep scarring or stitches. A simple wrap bandage and antiseptic cleansing did the trick.
Mike, on the other hand… wasn’t as lucky.
The jagged wounds across his upper thigh were deeper and raw, the kind of injury that made every muscle flare up against the table as the doctor worked.
After five grueling stitches that stung even through the anesthesia, Owens sentenced him to at least a week on crutches. Mike had honestly been expecting worse, but the news still weighed on him.
Will didn’t exactly watch the procedure, but he stayed by his side the entire time. Somewhere along the way, Mike noticed Will had put on a fresh shirt. Gone was the unfairly distracting sight of him shirtless for the past two hours. Mike caught himself missing it, realizing just how much he’d been staring. Still, the way those short sleeves tightly hugged his arms almost made up for the loss.
Mike let out a heavy sigh at the sight of his crutches. “So lame.”
Will shook his head, “No, it’s cool. It shows you’re… brave.”
Will thought he was brave. That was enough.
Once he found a rhythm with them, it wasn’t so bad. Just moving again, joining the noise spilling from the main room was enough to make him happy.
“WILL!” “MIKE!” Lucas and Dustin's voices overlapped as they rushed forward, pulling them both into clumsy, careful hugs.
Mike hugged back to the best of his ability and scanned the rest of the room. El, Max, his sisters, the older teens, the adults— each and every one of them made it back in one piece. His chest exhaled with the kind of relief that words couldn’t hold.
They celebrated for hours, even through exhaustion. It would’ve been an injustice not to. The past weeks had been impossible— hiding, planning, training, fighting, day and night. Now, finally, it was over. The monsters were all dead, and they were all safe. Together.
But amid the noise and smiles, Mike’s thoughts kept drifting back to Will’s words. Soon it’ll be just us again. The promise lingered beneath every laugh, every cheer.
He was also still somewhat groggy from the anesthesia, loopier than the rest of them, and completely unable to stop talking about Will and everything he’d done that night.
“You should’ve seen him,” he gushed, one arm slung around Dustin while the other drew wild, useless shapes in the air, like he could sketch the whole scene from memory. “He was just— he was insane. You wouldn’t even believe it, he hit it with so much strength and agility.”
Lucas punched Will’s uninjured bicep with a grin. “No, I believe it.”
“Yeah, not surprised,” Dustin added.
Will flushed, ducking his head, and Mike felt his own cheeks warm. He shot Will a knowing smirk before barreling on.
“He went at it with the bat like— like harder than Steve. And then the gun, guys. He didn’t miss a single shot. Not one.”
“You’ve mentioned that,” Lucas laughed.
“It’s really not that impressive—” Will tried to downplay every bit of praise, his voice hushed with embarrassment. But Mike wasn’t having it. He cut in before he could finish, every time, never letting him have the last word.
The Byers family looked especially proud. El and Jonathan gushed around him, ruffling his hair affectionately. Joyce held him close as Hopper gave him knowing pats on the shoulder. “You did good, kid.”
Seeing how loved Will was made him that much more beautiful. Mike barely even noticed the pain slowly returning as anesthesia faded throughout the night. The joy was that infectious.
All Mike wanted was to kiss him again, to trace every whisper of muscle he hadn’t yet touched, to memorize him in a way no one ever had. But he would wait.
The party stretched another hour before sheer exhaustion forced everyone into goodnights and slow dispersal. Mike caught Will’s gaze from across the room. His chest tightened.
Will shot him a sly smile, and Mike felt the pull instantly. He smirked back and slipped away toward their shared and confined room that was once an office, the promise between them unspoken but unbreakable.
The door clicked shut. Mike bypassed his own makeshift bed and practically collapsed onto Will’s, tossing his crutches aside, grinning through the dull throb in his leg. Will followed close behind, slow and careful, mindful of their cuts.
“Please, Will.” Mike whispered, breathless. “Hurry and let me kiss you again.”
Will let out a small, hushed laugh. “You don’t wanna talk first? I mean, what even are we now?”
”We’re just us.” He whined, still kind of on ann planet. “And I don’t need to talk to know I want to kiss you again. Please.”
Will didn’t answer this time, not with words. Instead, he just smiled and climbed onto the bed, closing the space between them until he was braced above him, gently pinning Mike’s wrists to the sheets.
The boldness of it, the weight of him, the way his bandaged arm slightly shook with effort from holding himself up.
Mike couldn't help but gasp. "Holy fuck—“
“Shhhh” Will murmured, a playful glint in his eyes. “we have to be quiet, you idiot!”
Mike nodded, incapable of any more speech, already losing himself in the proximity.
Will then swept down and kissed him with the kind of intention that stole his breath away. A recurring effect Will seemed to have in him.
Breath left Mike’s lungs in an urgent rush, chest straining against the continued throb of his leg. The kiss was slow with sleepiness, but every movement carried purpose. Mike pressed closer, lips and tongue mapping every plane, memorizing every nuance, every soft intake of breath.
His hands roamed over all the same places. Will’s shoulders, chest, ribs, back. He traced each faint muscle with reverent lust, and every flicker of movement sent fire coursing through Mike. He slid his hand under Will’s shirt, brushing the warm plane of stomach before daring to tug at the fabric. Will lifted his arms without hesitation, letting Mike peel the shirt off, revealing the lean torso Mike had already fallen in love with.
The shirt hit the floor somewhere unseen. Mike leaned back and stared in awe, biting his lip to maintain control.
Will smiled at his silence. “Liked what you saw?” He whispered, teasing and breathless, still towering above him.
Good God.
Mike had always adored Will’s shy side, but this sudden confidence was something else entirely. It was already addictive. And as far as he knew, he was the only one who got to see it.
“Yes, Will,” he breathed. “So much.”
His hands traced the lines of his arms, over the slope of his shoulders, down the center of his chest. All slim and solid in a way Mike hadn’t been prepared for. It was like the stillness of a sculpture, but alive and breathing and pulsing beneath his touch.
If the attack hadn’t killed him, this might.
Will shivered slightly under the attention. “You keep looking at me like that,” he whispered, skin flushing pinker by the second.
“I can’t stop,” he admitted. “And I don’t want to. You're so fucking pretty, Will, I want… I want to learn you.”
Will didn’t tease. Just blushed and pressed his forehead to his, lips brushing softly. Mike deepened the kiss, tracing the faint shadows between his ribs. His touch wasn’t steady, but it was devout, and it was enough to draw soft sounds from Will that nearly made Mike melt.
He slowly guided Will down until they lay side by side. Fingers tangled in hair, brushed over jawlines, along shoulders, down chest, memorizing every ridge. The kiss stretched, unbroken, every sound folding into an endless moment. Pain in Mike’s leg became a background hum, insignificant compared to the fire in his chest, the awe and hunger consuming him.
They eventually pulled away, only after their exhaustion won over, when staying close soon mattered more than moving.
The two carefully took off their jeans, awkward, slow, a few soft laughs exchanged as they worked around injuries and narrow bed space. The moment stayed whole.
Under the covers, Mike softly brushed Will’s hair from his eyes, fingertips trembling as they skimmed his cheek. “Is this okay?”
Will met his gaze and nodded, voice barely audible. “More than okay.”
It still felt strange to be this close, like his brain hadn’t fully caught up to the shift away from ‘just friends’. Mike had spent so long burying this desire that it felt unnatural to let it breathe. But the peace on Will’s face reminded him that that chapter was forever closed.
“I still can’t believe this is you,” he whispered.
Will’s quiet laugh warmed the air between them. “What?”
“Like… that this is actually you. Feeling… the same way. I never thought it would happen.”
“You never thought it would happen? I never thought it would happen, I thought you would never—"
"I think I've always loved you."
Will paused. "Really?"
"Yeah." Mike's voice lived in that soft tone that he only ever used with the boy in front of him. "How could I not?"
Will just blushed and laced their fingers together under the covers. “I— I’ve always loved you, too. So much.”
Mike squeezed his hand.
“And I never thought I'd be brave enough to act on it,” Will hushed. “Until that moment… the way you looked at me when our heads were… yeah. I just had to.”
Mike blushed back. “Thank god you did.”
His free hand memorized the lines and shapes of Will’s golden skin and the brawn that rested underneath. All the quiet strength he’d never fully seen until now. There was probably so much more about Will that he still didn’t know. The thought struck him hard, and he wanted to learn it all.
“I know we’ve talked about this all night,” he whispered, “but how did you do all that back there? Like... really?”
Will’s brow furrowed slightly. “You know this. My dad took me hunting.” His tone carried a strange gravity.
“Well, yeah. But it wasn’t just that,” Mike pressed. “The way you moved, the timing, the force. It was… more.”
Will hesitated. “I don’t know. I guess I just… work well under pressure.”
Mike shook his head gently as his fingers traced the broadest points of Will’s shoulders like he was mapping a city. “That’s not the whole story.”
Will gave a weak laugh, exhaling into it. “No?”
“No.” Mike’s voice softened, eyes wide with something between awe and disbelief. Before tonight, he’d assumed Will had just filled out naturally, won the puberty lottery or something. But no. Will’s strength was cut and earned, not accidental.
“I’m no expert,” Mike murmured, daring himself to address it, “but I'm pretty sure this doesn't just… appear.
Will flushed, which only made Mike fall harder.
“What’s the secret? You been secretly pumping iron, or something?”
Will bit his lip, eyes dropping. His smile faded with the movement. He opened his mouth to answer, then closed it again. Whatever he was about to say, it cost him something.
Mike’s eyebrows tilted in concern. “Sorry, you don’t have to…”
“No, no, I’ll tell you.” Will sighed, the weight in his tone pulling the air between them tighter. “It’s just… a lot.”
“That’s okay—“
“And kind of dumb, too.”
Mike frowned, “I bet it’s not.” His other hand found Will’s beneath the covers and squeezed it tight. “I’d never judge you.”
Will’s chest rose and fell as if he were bracing himself. “Okay,” he said finally, a small yawn slipping out before his voice turned quiet again. “I’ll just get straight to the point, I guess. Uhm. I don’t know if you heard about this, but my dad…” He trailed off. Pools of water gathered in his eyes as he had to manually control his breathing.
Mike’s voice cracked with worry. “Did he... do something to you?”
“No.” Will smiled, strangely, wiping his eyes before the tears could fall. “No, nothing like that.”
“Okay, good.”
Will tilted his head. “Not really. About a month after we moved… he died.”
Mike froze, entirely unprepared for that answer.
“...Oh.”
He had no idea how to react. Lonnie was such a piece of shit, and Mike only had bad things to say about him. But at the end of the day, he was still Will’s dad. It had to be weird.
“Yeah. Alcohol poisoning.”
Mike swallowed hard. “Shit, that’s… I’m so sorry.”
Will shrugged, small, “It’s okay. I mean— it’s kinda not— but… I don’t know. It was weird.”
He wouldn’t meet Mike’s eyes. “I hadn’t seen him in years, and I had every reason to hate him, but it still hit me. It… felt like a loss. I don’t know why.”
Mike squeezed his hand again, saying what words couldn’t.
“I didn’t fly out for the funeral.” Will admitted. “I thought I wouldn’t care, but. I did.”
Mike’s chest tightened. He hated the idea of Will carrying that alone. He also kinda hated himself for the distance he’d put between them in the past that likely prevented Will from telling him this sooner.
But Will was telling him how. And he’d listen.
“I know that’s weird…” Will said, small.
“No,” Mike said softly. “It’s not. Grief is complicated. Especially when the person is… also complicated.”
Will smiled slightly at that. “Yeah. I was already feeling so detached from Hawkins, too… and it just made everything worse. Then I started feeling guilty for never seeing him when I could, for never giving him another chance.”
Mike frowned. He wasn’t good at this emotional stuff, comforting people and knowing what to say. But he couldn’t let Will believe this was his burden to carry. “It wasn't your job to fix things. Don’t put that on yourself, okay? He was the adult.”
Will smiled sadly. “I know. But I still could’ve called, or something.”
“He should’ve called.” Mike said, sharper now. “Seriously, that's on him. He didn’t deserve you. He never has.”
Will looked at him. Really looked. Then nodded as a silent but genuine thank you.
The silence from there settled between them, soft and intimate. Mike’s thumb was tracing slight circles against Will’s hand, staring straight into his soft eyes.
Eventually, Will continued, “I know deep down that if I did reach out, it probably wouldn’t have gone well. He still wouldn't want a queer for a son.”
The word cut through Mike like a blade. He couldn't even begin to think of this, with Will, in terms like that. It was so easy to see Will as just Will, not as a boy he loved, not as a love that meant something about him had to be fundamentally different. Something that could get him beat up or worse. It was enough to send him spiraling out of control before he could properly address it within himself.
He couldn't go there. Not now. He centered his attention back on Will's voice.
“But… I don’t know, the ‘unknowns of it all’ still kept me up at night. I wanted closure. Or something— anything to make thinking about him less… awful.”
He paused, eyes lowering. “So… I started playing baseball.”
Mike blinked. For a good few seconds, he thought he’d misheard him. “Baseball?”
“…Yeah.” Will said it like he was confessing something horrible. “It was the one thing we did together that didn’t entirely suck.”
Mike almost couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Baseball.
But he could see it now. The stance, the clean swing, the way Will moved with that nail bat like every motion had been rehearsed in secret. It explained the strength, the control, the precision.
It still felt so impossibly foreign in Mike’s mind, though. 'Will Byers' and 'sports' had never belonged in the same sentence. Well, maybe not this Will Byers, but the scrawnier, diminutive version he grew up with. The Will who hated little league and slept through the Reds games that Lonnie always dragged him to.
“I know it’s dumb—“ Will said quickly after Mike's lack of response.
“No!” Mike cut in. “No, it’s not dumb at all. It just… surprised me. But… it suits you.”
Will exhaled and smiled. Mike hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath, waiting for his reaction. This really mattered to him. More than he’d let on.
“Thanks.”
“Of course," Mike smiled sincerely. “And did it help?”
Will nodded. “In a weird way, yeah. Now when I think about it, it’s never those bad memories from before.” He smiled to himself suddenly. “And I think it’d spite him to know his gay son made varsity before he did.”
Mike chuckled softly, smiling at the thought of Lonnie rolling in his grave. “So you’re really good, then?” he teased. “Bet you are, based on what I saw.”
“I’m not… bad. But not the best on my team.”
Mike coyly rolled his eyes. Will was good at almost everything he tried, and he was always too modest.
“I did it through a club, so I got to play all year. And sometimes I even got Jonathan to practice with me.”
“All year, huh? So that’s why you’re secretly jacked?”
Will’s eyes widened, “Jacked?”
“You kinda are.”
“No. You should see the other guys on the team.”
“I don’t care about them.”
“No?” His grin curved slow.
“Of course not. Only you,” Mike’s hand swept over his torso. “And… this.”
Will blushed, grinning wider. “I didn’t say I haven’t been… you know…”
Jesus. Christ.
“I was working out. Almost every day. Now me and Lucas go sometimes. But jacked?” Will looked down at himself. “My muscle’s barely even noticeable.”
“I noticed.”
Will blushed.
“You look fucking good, Will.”
Will’s face somehow went even redder, and it had Mike smiling like an idiot. His voice then softened. “You gonna keep playing?”
“Maybe.” Will bit his lip and smiled. “I kinda want to.”
Mike could barely contain the mental image of watching Will on the field.
“But probably just in the spring. All year was too much. I didn’t have as much time to paint as I would’ve liked.”
“Yeah, can’t have that,” Mike murmured, beginning to feel the weight of his eyelids more and more. “I’ll come watch.”
“You don’t have to, the games are really long—”
“I want to.” He grinned and let his eyes rest. Another stretch of peaceful silence overtook until Mike was already asking his next question.
“What do you like about it?”
“I dunno…” Will’s words were also starting to slur against the fatigue. “…practice gave me something to do. I was pretty bored a lot of the time, even with my art. And even though I wasn’t really friends with any of the guys, I was still… part of something, which was nice. And the mix of physical and mental strength in the game is cool. I played second base, so I had to think and act fast.”
Mike jolted fully awake. “Second base? You mean you didn’t bat?”
“Mike.” Will gave him the sweetest but knowing eyes, “everyone bats.”
“Ah,” he nodded, trying to play it cool.
Will laughed, more to himself. “Actually, can I tell you the real reason I liked it?”
Mike nodded.
“It’s kinda fucked, but… I liked the physical toll it took on me. How it could hurt a little.”
Mike made a face. “What?”
Will’s smile was unshakable. He was so cute, Mike could die.
“You like pain?” Mike gestured to his arm.
“Not injury pain,” he laughed. “Just the kind that distracts you from the other pain in your head. The kind that reminds you you’re… still here. Living.”
“Huh,” Mike thought about it. The physical torture he experienced from gym class never gave him clarity, it only added to his pre-existing misery. “That could not be me.”
“Wasn’t me either.” Will said quietly. “Until it was, I guess.”
“Well. I’m glad it works for you. And I’m glad I’ll never have to leave the stands.”
They both laughed softly, faces so close their breaths mingled.
Mike could feel himself fading away as sleep dragged him down. He pulled Will into a final hug, perhaps a little too desperately, who squeezed back with all the strength he still had left.
“I really do love you,” Mike said for the third time that night.
Will pulled away just enough to look at him. “Bet I do more.”
Mike shook his head. “Not possible.”
Will planted the softest kiss on his lips. Mike shifted so Will’s back was to his chest, arm wrapped securely around him.
He dreamt of nothing but pleasant things that night. Stars and sunlight and the feeling of Will engulfed in his embrace.
And he knew he’d awake in the morning to a world with more pain to come, where the final battle against Vecna still loomed over their heads. But for once, Mike wasn’t afraid of it.
Because Will Byers loved him back.
And that changed everything.