Chapter Text
The bike to the cabin left Mike's fingers frozen. The sun shining through the clouds didn't have any effect, it was fall and all the sun could do was blind you.
He heard casual chit-chatting and figured they're probably on a break. He saw them sitting together while she drank her water with a frown.
Carefully, Mike knocked on the wood of the cabin, catching their attention.
Eleven's frown turned into a welcoming smile while Hopper greeted him, schooling his expression.
Mike liked to think he and Hopper had gotten better— and they did— but he could still feel the animosity.
Mike knew he was in for trouble after what he was going to do.
“Are you free right now?”
Hopped grunted and left, clearly not too happy about an interruption to the training, but there was only so much you could say against your superpowered daughter.
“Is everything okay?”
“I need to talk.” Mike answered. “About us.”
And almost, just almost, did he get a feeling that she understood, that she knew. He's been an awful boyfriend, Mike sighed to himself.
“Sit.” She patted the empty space on the log bench she was sitting on, that was left vacant from Hopper.
“I don't know how to say it, so I guess I just will.” Mike took a deep breath and then sat down next to her.
He stiffened when he felt her take his hand into hers. “It is okay. You can tell me.
“I…” Mike started, “God, this sounds bad, but I don't think we should be together anymore. And don't say anything! Just let me ramble.”
He watched her nod slowly before he continued.
“You're amazing, El, really. You're one of the strongest people I know. You keep fighting to save us all, even though you have every right to leave this town. And that's why I like you. But it's not a romantic feeling. I… I thought it was. I thought I was enamored, but in reality I'm just a nerd that found a girl with superpowers. Obviously, I'd be crazy about you. It wasn't romantic, and I'm sorry for not realizing. I was trying to make it real, but I can't make it real. I don't like you like that. In fact, I don't like any girl like that.”
He looked up at her to gauge a reaction. Her expression was fond, but also slightly confused.
“Any girl?” She asked, “What does that mean?”
“It means that I don't like any girl romantically. So, you and every other girl on this planet.” He explained, hoping she'd understand.
“How do you know that? You don't know every girl.” She inquired.
“Well, instead of girls, I like boys.” Mike looked down, fidgeting with his hand that he took away from hers.
“That is possible?” The question almost made Mike laugh. It was so innocent, as if he hadn't spent years trying to hide this part of himself.
“Yeah, it's possible.”
She hummed, clearly getting lost in thought, and Mike gave her her time.
“I think I get it.” She finally said and smiled, and Mike couldn't help smiling back.
“It took me a while to figure it out—” Mike began, wanting to apologize, but she interrupted him.
“So you like Will?”
Mike's mouth was left ajar, only being able to let out a small noise. “Huh?”
“Do you not?” She began to backtrack, “It makes the most sense.”
“I…” Mike stammered. “I do, but how do you know that?”
“Well, he gave you that painting.” She shrugged.
“The painting? What about the painting?”
“I figured it was for someone he liked. But then he gave it to you, and I was not sure. I told you so in my letter.”
“Oh.” Mike whispered. “Oh.”
She was right, she had told him. But of course he forgot. The painting wasn't commissioned by El, he should have known.
But there was no way. No, this made more sense than what he had believed. In what world would El commission a DND painting? What did she know about DND?
That was his and Mike's thing. He could remember it like it was yesterday— them in Kindergarten discovering and playing for the first time, Mike watching as Will drew their characters, and eventually them inviting Lucas, then Dustin.
“I think you need to talk to him.” Eleven placed her hand on his shoulder, clearly noticing the fire in Mike's mind.
“Yeah, I do.” He got up quickly, but then paused until he turned to her.
“You’re okay with this? I mean, he's your brother.”
“Mike.” She smiled. “It is okay. It makes sense.”
And God, Mike could kiss her. Totally platonically, but he needed to thank her— properly thank her— once he talked to Will.
He can only remember the blood rushing through his body, his mind, as his ears buzzed and legs pedalled. His house came into his view and he almost threw his bike to the ground and stormed inside, but he tried not to alert his mom. He heard her doing something in the kitchen as he stormed into the basement, stopping halfway down the stairs, noticing Will and Jonathan staring at him.
Mike just stared at Will, accidentally, as he tried to form a sentence, but Will seemed to understand. He got up and told Jonathan something before grabbing Mike's arm and pulling him into his room.
“Did you tell her?”
“Yeah.” Mike answered, finally speaking as Will pulled him down to sit on his bed with him. “She was really cool with it.”
Will raised an eyebrow, “Did something else happen?”
Mike looked up at Will, then back down.
“She said something else.”
He paused, waiting to see if Will would take initiative, if he'd guess what he was talking about.
“About the painting.”
And that caused a reaction from Will. Mike could feel him stiffening and trying to mask his breathing.
“She wrote me a letter and mentioned the painting. And how she thought it was for someone you liked.”
Will sighed shakily, “Mike…”
“Is it true?” Mike asked. And how he wanted it to be true. Let him be right, this once.
“I don't want things to change between us.” Is all that Will answered. Mike knew the feeling too well, which he knew could mean only one thing.
“They won't.” Mike assured Will. He needed to hear it.
Will looked up at Mike, eyes glistening in the light. “It’s true.”
His voice is barely a whisper, Mike's heart beating louder than it.
“I like you, too.” Mike blurted out, unable to stop himself, but he wouldn't have wanted to, anyway.
Both stared at each other, surprised and shocked, until one of them started to giggle, or maybe it was both of them. It didn't matter, they were both laughing.
Mike bubbled forward, leaning his head on Will's shoulder. He wrapped his arms around Mike's laughing figure softly.
“I can't believe this is real.”
“Well, it is.” Mike lifted his head, smiling at him softly and cupping his cheek in his hand. “It's real.”
Will's cheeks dusted a slight pink before he smiled back. Mike leaned in, slowly and carefully, awaiting Will's reaction.
He watched as Will's eyes darted down just slightly, shortly, before he looked back into Mike's eyes. And he took that as a sign to fully lean in.
It was short, just a peck, really, but it was enough. It made Mike feel more than it did with El, and he would have felt guilty about it, if it hadn’t felt this good. Will smiled at him, tears rimming his eyes again, when he pulled Mike back in.
Mike lied. Things were going to change. But Mike couldn't care one bit. This was exactly where he needed to be.