Chapter Text
The party is encroaching upon the midway point of the campaign, telling by the little Mike can gauge from Max’s notes, and it’s been a little over a month. And, by the end of the session, he can for a moment put aside the disdain for Will’s guest and the awkwardness he feels with Will himself, as well as the others. Mike just tries to ignore him.
Mike has been watching Max the whole campaign so far, feeling how his hands inherently get clammy and his stomach twists in knots. She’s not El, never even been close to her, but that makes it better for once.
And, for once, he thinks he's over everything that happened, as much as he can be. For once, Mike thinks he knows what to do. As fucked up as he knows it to be.
The others have begun to clean up the table after the session, and he barely sneaks a glance at Will, who is far too busy talking to his boyfriend to even notice it, before slipping off with Max upstairs under the guise of coaching for the campaign. Alone. Lucas does give a glance at him; he can feel it. He hopes he doesn’t look nervous.
He closes the door to the basement behind them, hoping the motion is subtle enough to not be weird. Awkward. Away from prying eyes; away from her boyfriend of however many years, just through the door and down the stairs. He glances around the hallway to check for prying eyes, as though casual. Certainly awkward.
“Great campaign so far.” Mike says simply, when the silent pause becomes too much, when the way Max narrows her eyes at him suspiciously makes his skin prickle. It's perhaps the first ever genuine compliment he’s ever given her without a sassy remark to immediately follow it up.
She quirks a brow at him, not buying it, clearly. And, for a moment, Mike can delude himself into thinking it's cute. And, it is cute, in a way. “Yeah right, Wheeler. What do you want?”
It’s the worst question to ever ask him.
What do you want? For most of his life, he thought it was Eleven, but she’s been gone for years, and it's been just as long since he knew what he truly wanted. He knows so little of what he truly wants at this point that, when he looks in the mirror, all he sees is his father.
But, right now, at least in this brief moment, he feels confident that he wants her; that this is why he's felt so weird about this campaign. That it's not the boy who sits across from him at the table with his uninvited boyfriend who looks strangely like him, but something far safer. A girl. A girl with a boyfriend, but a girl. An objectively pretty girl. Someone soft and stable, like he thought he wanted in middle school.
He doesn’t have the heart to say it out loud. Admittance would be too much.
Instead, Mike leans in, choosing to ignore the fact that Max attempts to lean away; it doesn't matter, their mouths collide regardless. It’s far too rough and miscalculated – he can feel his teeth slam into his lips, but her hair is soft when his hands find it. And it's a kiss. And it's a kiss with a girl.
Though, barely a second in, it doesn't feel right. It doesn't feel like kissing Eleven, for all its own respective flaws. Still, Mike pushes it aside. He’s been wanting this moment for too long that he pulls her closer all the same.
Max has always understood him more than most think; he knows this truly, despite how much he tries to forget. They've been through too much together not to. Regardless of their constant bickering and fighting, she knows the coping mechanisms where most wouldn't – because they're hers too. Though, in the back of his mind, Mike knows there's no coming back from this. There’s no sympathy to be had for what he's done; what he's doing now.
She pushes him away gently. Too gently. So gently it hurts worse than if she were to hit him, and he would deserve it if she so chooses.
She looks at him with a softness and pity that he feels his stomach turn, only this time not from butterflies; a disease he's always known to be there, getting to the point of deadly and ready to become unignorable if she just says the right word. For the first time since reconnecting with Max, Mike realizes that she could so easily break him, just maybe not in the way he intended at first.
He knows he’s fucked up. It’s all he’s been good at, though he never imagined himself truly stooping so low.
“You’re a horrible kisser.” Max says finally, her voice taking that usual playful, sarcastic lilt she often has with him. As though to clear the tension in his bones; as though to say she's not mad. And Mike suddenly remembers how to breathe.
He manages a slight laugh despite feeling as though the entire situation is far from humorous. Belatedly, he remembers to pull his hands from her hair, regardless of how much he wants to leave them there forever. “Yeah, well, I haven't had much practice recently.”
And she laughs. She takes a step closer, and, for a moment, Mike can delude himself into believing she's going to kiss him. Her hands come up to cup his face in her smooth hands, and his knees feel far too weak. Surely–
“Don’t be an idiot, Mike.”
It’s the first time he thinks she’s properly used his name other than some variation of it, and it's certainly the sweetest she's ever sounded saying it, despite the words that come first. Nothing has felt right since he was a kid, but, when her hands linger on his face, he thinks it could.
He knows it can’t. Not with her, at least.
“I love you.” Mike admits anyway, his voice cracking on the word in a way that makes him cringe. He always has, regardless of how much he tries to deny it. Regardless of whether he means it romantically or not, he knows he loves her.
It’s not lost on him that he couldn't even say the words to his own girlfriend when he had her. He’s always wanted things he’s not sure he deserves.
“I love you too, Wheeler.” Max’s hands drop unceremoniously from his face just when he got used to it, a chill immediately following.
He knows the way she means it. He knows that she really loves Lucas. But it's still the first time he's really, truly spoken to her, and that's enough. He shouldn't have kissed her, and he feels horrible for it, yet he can't help but smile. She's not mad, and it's enough.
“Oh, and I’ve written in some extra alone time for you and the sorcerer!” she adds quickly with a grin, and it's clear by her tone there's no way to opt out. She continues before he can even get a word in: “You know storytelling better than anyone, it just makes sense for your characters to canonically get together.”
“Don’t I get a say in this? At least Will?” Mike asks quickly, regardless of the slightly awkward laugh woven in with his words. His answer is a quick shake of her head and a knowing smile that makes him believe she knows him better than he knows himself.
“Not at all,” she confirms, tilting her head at him. “You should be kissing Will instead if you're kissing anyone. It would certainly add to the getting-together scene I already have planned.”
He feels the blood drain from his face.
“Kiss–” cutting himself off, glancing to the basement door as though the whole world could hear what she just said, leaning in to whisper; “Will?”
This time, his answer is an obvious nod. “Obviously. It’s the natural progression–”
He stops her short: “Will has a boyfriend,” he reminds simply, before realizing that should really be the least of his worries. “I don't want to kiss him.”
Max just rolls her eyes. “I'll clear it with them first.” She shrugs, as though it's nothing. As though Mike couldn't just faint then and there. “It’s a bit further in the campaign, I think; we’ll see how you feel in a week or two.”
Just as Mike opens his mouth to make it clear he will certainly feel the exact same by the time her romance side plot can come to fruition, the party opens the door, Lucas leading the group, and he can't talk about kissing Will now, regardless of whether to clarify how much he doesn't want to. He belatedly realizes he never actually rejected the romance plot, just the possibility of a kiss.
Max grins at him as she takes Lucas’ hand and waves before turning to leave his home. Dustin gives him a hug before following behind.
Only, this time, Mike’s eyes don’t stay glued to Max’s hand in her boyfriend's. Instead, drifting to Will’s in his own partners as they walk out the door.