Chapter Text
Will’s POV
It’s been a few weeks since Mike and I first moved into our shared college dorm together. Coincidentally, we both got into the same school we applied for. I’m majoring in illustration, and he’s majoring in creative writing. I guess we decided to room together because… well, who else would we room with? We’re the closest to each other, so it makes sense. Though, it hasn’t been feeling that way lately.
It’s been like this ever since last summer. It reminds me of the summer of 1985; the whole Starcourt Mall thing, when he ignored me 99% of time to be with El. Mike’s more closed off lately. I mean, we still talk, but we don’t have long and engaging conversations anymore. His eyes always seem to have this intense feeling locked away hidden deep inside them, but I still notice it. Every time I ask him what’s wrong, he always tries to play it off as him being tired.
There’s this small part of me that thinks he’s acting the way he is because he’s disgusted with how different I am. It’s like ever since I came out, he doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore. So why did he suggest sharing a dorm together? He doesn’t seem as enthusiastic as you’d expect someone who’s sharing a dorm with their best friend to be.
Our dorm has one bathroom, two beds, and a small kitchen. In the bathroom our sink has some cheap hand-soap on it, a razor, my face-wash, and a mug with two toothbrushes in it. One blue and one yellow. In the shower, I have my own shampoo and conditioner, and an apple-scented bottle of body-wash. Mike has one bottle of shampoo, and he usually steals my body-wash. I don’t mind though; it makes him smell like me. Shit. What am I even saying?
I usually do that cooking in the kitchen because every time Mike tries to make something, he always finds a new way to fuck it up. It’s truly fascinating. Don’t even ask me how you mess up cereal. Anyways, I like to use the recipes my mom wrote down for me. They’re written on note cards lightly scented with her perfume. It makes me miss her.
The bedroom is split in half. One side is mine, neat and decorated with drawings, a painting easel, and a small shelf for my CDs. The other side is Mike’s, messier with movie posters on the walls, a typewriter, an old guitar I’ve never seen him play, and… The painting I made for him hung up above his desk.
I wonder if Mike ever realized that El never commissioned that painting.
Mike’s POV
I can’t believe I’m rooming with Will. I’m sharing a dorm with Will Byers. I get to see him every day. I mean, this is just like when he was staying in my basement temporarily… Actually it’s not! It’s just me and him. We’re alone. Just the thought of that makes my stomach feel this strange way. And I’m fully aware why… after all these years. Is this really okay?
I never thought that being… different… was wrong. I remember how hard it was for Will back in middle school. Troy and his friends used to pick on him and call him a “fairy”. But still, I feel guilty. My father doesn’t like those kinds of people. He used to be worried about me when I was a kid, since I spent almost every second with Will. Will and I were inseparable. I remember, in 1st grade, sometimes the noise of the classroom would get too overwhelming for Will, and he would give me that worried look that only I can understand, so I would hold his hand under the table to comfort him. Eventually, we had to stop because the other kids made fun of us. But I never thought it was weird. And I guess he didn’t either. Now, I’m sure he will. If I tried to hold his hand right now, he would be grossed out with me, since he’s moved on.
Living in the dorm with Will has been awkward. Actually, it’s been awkward ever since last summer. And it’s all my fault. Whenever he tries to talk to me, my mind goes blank and I stumble on my words. Whenever we accidentally make physical contact, my face overheats. And whenever the lights are switched off for the night, and he’s lying in the bed on the other side of the room, I can’t sleep. If I could just be normal about this, there wouldn’t be a problem.
But Will makes me feel all sorts of things.
He also makes me want all sorts of things.
I want all the things I could’ve had. I want to hold his hands in mine. I want to watch his smile grow bigger while I shower him with compliments. I want to hold him tight as we both drift off to sleep. I want to wake up the next day with him by my side. I want to wipe away his tears. I want to- I want. That’s all I do. I want. It makes me feel even more guilty. It makes me feel greedy.
Unknowingly, I’ve been feeling this way about him ever since we met. It explains all the times I got this feeling I couldn’t get explain. I didn’t know what it was, but it felt nice.
If only I could’ve realized sooner.