Chapter Text
Mike froze. His eyes were puffy and red, his cheeks were glistening with fresh trails of tears. He could feel himself trembling, and he knew his voice would break the second he tried to use it. Will carefully walked into the room shutting the door behind him. He took a seat next to Mike, deliberately giving him space. Mike wished he hadn’t. He wished they could go back to old times when they would pull each other close without a thought. He longed to hold Will in his arms, to feel his embrace. All it would take was three simple words, but Mike knew he wasn’t brave enough.
Then Mike remembered. He was holding Will’s painting. Crying. He had no idea how this looked to Will, but he really didn’t know how to explain it. Mike quickly looked to Will trying to come up with an explanation, but was greeted with something worse. Will had this way of smiling when he knew something. The corners of his lips would pull into a smile, with the very edges curved down. He’d look at you with those big brown eyes–the ones that watered at the smallest things–and wait for you to catch up. It was never out of annoyance, if anything it was pure patience, yet now Mike dreaded it more than anything.
“I’m sorry Mike.” Will started before Mike could even begin a sentence. “I always meant to tell you. Someday. Someday when everything was just a distant funny memory…When I showed you the painting I-I.” Will’s voice broke slightly. “I knew you didn’t need…didn’t need me at that moment. You needed El. You needed to think that it was hers–” Those doe eyes landed back onto Mike, and just as predicted they had started to glisten. “You needed support in a way I could never give you…If it helps, I meant everything I said. El–” Will’s voice cracked at her memory. “El may not have been the one to say them, but I meant them.”
The world Mike had built around himself crumbled with every word. He knew, he knew, that it was Will’s painting. He knew deep down that El, for all the love she had, was not the one who requested this painting. Mike desperately wanted to speak, but the words died before they could solidify. They all rushed in the second Will started to pull away from the bed.
“Will!” Mike paused as he grabbed Will’s arm, feeling his pulse rush beneath the skin of his palm. “Please don’t go.” He swallowed, feeling the years of suppression rush to the surface. “I–I needed, need, you more than anything Will. More than El, more than my family, more than the party, I needed you. My friend, my best friend, my–” he choked on the word, but nothing would stop him now. “My Will, the person I love. I was so blind and so stupid to see what was in plain sight. I should have known long ago, I should have told you long ago.” Tears streamed down his face blurring the smiling face of Will. “I was such an idiot. I was so scared. So scared that I wasn’t enough for you, that I hid. I hid everything so deeply, that I forgot what truly mattered. You, Will. You.”
And for the first time in a long time Mike felt something. It was warm and bright. It burned against his cheeks melting into his tears. He felt it radiating off him, and echoing back from Will’s wrist he still held. It was too much and not enough at the same time, an intoxicating freeness that Mike didn’t know he could ever feel.
Then a pair of lips pressed against his. They were soft like the breeze on an early spring morning. Every crease carried the answers Mike didn’t even know he was looking for. The delight seeped into his skin warming it like honey straight from the hive. Mike kissed back like a man who had been starved. His hands tangled in the soft brown locs at the base of Will’s neck, the ones he had always longed to feel. Will’s hand rested on Mike’s cheek running over the tears that still gently fell from his eyes.
When Mike died, he hoped this moment–this feeling–was what heaven was like. That the complete release he felt in this moment would never fade. For years, he dreaded this feeling, dreaded wanting this, but now he couldn’t imagine life without it. His brain flashed through a future, one he never thought would be possible. Will and him living in a city far from Hawkins. Will and him creating art together. Will and him sharing a cup of coffee in a dawn warmed bed. Him and Will, Will and him.
Will pulled away from Mike first resting his forehead against Mike's. He took deep slow breaths like he was processing. Mike stared at him through his eyelashes, searching for something, anything, that would let him know how the other was feeling. Just as he was about to worry, Will's smile–that beautiful smile that always melted Mike–showed on his face.
“How long…how long have you wanted to do that?” Will tentatively asked.
“Longer than I can remember.” Mike muttered still awestruck.
“What made you wait?”
“I don’t know. I wish I hadn’t, because Will. I love you.” Mike smiled to himself. “I love you.”
It was Will’s turn to pause. “I love you too.”