Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

A heavy thump shook the Wheeler basement, like an earthquake decided to strike the middle-of-nowhere Indiana. Lucas sprung up at the sound, tossing the wadded up comforter off of his waist and onto Dustin, who was unmoved by the sudden thud.

In between the coffee table and the edge of the couch was a pillow, an old blanket, and a Mike Wheeler. He let out a deep groan, bringing the blanket over his head. A mix of incoherent mumbles and what sounded like a 'Lucas’ came from Mike.

"Mike! Smile!” Lucas teased, holding his phone out, camera faced at Mike, half-awake on the floor.

Mike swatted at the phone, like a cat reaching for a dust bunny, leaving Lucas to juggle his phone to keep it from dropping onto Mike.

Before he could get the chance to swipe at Lucas again, Lucas took a picture of Mike and retreated back to the couch.

Right when Mike thinks the torture is over, his phone vibrates somewhere, lost in the jungle of bedding on the floor. Will, he muttered to himself before shuffling through the bedding.

One notification.

Lucas Sinclair (@lucassinclair67) Mentioned you on Their Story

Mike shot Lucas a look of disbelief. "You’re kidding.”

Lucas simply shrugged off Mike’s remark, taking back the comforter he had tossed on top of Dustin mere moments ago.

Mike stood up, an absolute mess. His pajama pants were sagging below his hips and one leg was rolled over itself, exposing half of Mike’s leg. His hair was knotted, standing up like he had finally gotten that lovely mohawk he had always dreamed of getting.

He sighed, kicking his pillow to the side. “You gotta head out,” he lightly kicked Lucas, trying to grab his attention. “And him over there too.”

Lucas groaned in an attempt to muster the will to get up off of the couch. He glanced over at Dustin, snuggled into the couch, his mouth agape.

Mike paced around on his phone before setting it down. “Music?” he asked, turning up the volume.

Just like Heaven played from Mike’s phone on the coffee table, the music filling the silence in the basement.

Lucas snapped his head around, quirking a brow in confusion. ‘The Cure?”

Mike ignored the strange tone from Lucas, “Yeah?”

“Just, didn’t think you’d listen to The Cure, that’s all.”

“Oh,” he swallowed. Heat crept onto his cheeks, subtle but hard to ignore.

Lucas laughed to himself, “It’s fine man, you don’t gotta go all crazy on me.”

Mike looked down at the empty soda can tightly gripped in his hand that he hadn’t even realized he’d crushed.

He loosened his grip, dropping the can back onto the floor, as an attempt to release the tension that had suddenly built up in his body.

That had been happening a lot recently, feeling tense, like being trapped with no means of escape. He used to feel tense, years ago, when Will was in and out of the hospital. He was in a constant state of worry, fearing for the live of his best friend, who had been tortured and killed and brought back to life and was generally not having a good time.

bzz. bzz.

But that was over. Vecna has been gone and the Upside Down has been sealed… so what’s the deal?

"I gotta get ready,” Mike started, wiping the droplets of sweat off of his face. “You guys gonna be gone when I get back?”

"Yeah, I’m gonna—” Lucas was cut off by the sudden snoring coming from the boy on the couch, “—We are gonna be heading out.”

bzz.

Mike nodded, his phone clasped tightly in his hand with three notifications. “Alright, see you later…” he trailed off as he headed up the stairs.

"Michael!” yelled a voice from the kitchen, alongside the beeping of the oven timer and the sweet, sweet aroma of fresh, buttery pancakes. “Can you set the table? And are your friends eating? If so you need to get the extra chairs.”

"No- no, they’re leaving,” Mike muttered, eyes glued to his phone, his heart speeding at the sight of Will’s texts.’

Karen untied her apron, hanging it up on the side of the fridge. "Michael, will you at least get off of your phone and get ready?”

Mike quickly nodded, squeezing past Holly who was guiding a few of her friends down the stairs.

He locked the bathroom door behind himself, setting his phone on the counter, The Cure continuing to play over the rumble of the ceiling vents.

He cupped the sink water in his hands, splashing it onto his face, flinching back at the coldness. “Fuck” he let out, waiting as the water slowly trickled down his face and splashed back into the sink.

Mike’s phone vibrated again.

Without a second thought, Mike reached for his phone, hands still dripping wet. Water splashed all over the screen, leading it to act like it had a mind of its own, typing random letters, spaces, symbols and send—

"Shit.” Mike groaned. In search of a towel, he learned that Holly had yet to deliver the clean laundry to the bathroom, leaving Mike to wipe his hands on his shirt. It’ll dry, he thought for a millisecond before wiping down his phone with his shirt.

bzz. bzz. bzz.

“Incoming call from… ‘sorcerer !!!’ Answer it?” The muffled automated voice asked from under Mike’s shirt.

In a defeated sigh, he replied "yes.”

“Mike? You alright?” Will asked. His voice was hardly coherent due to the speakers being clogged with water.

"Uh… yeah.” Mike set his phone down, this time away from the sink. “Sorry… got water on my phone,” He complained, raking is now dry fingers through his hair, a frivolous attempt to tame his bedhead.

"Noon still?”

"Yeah, I’ll be there,” Mike smiled to himself, a bit of color returning to his face. “And bring pajamas, alright?”

"Alright.”

"Cool.”

"Cool.”

Mike eyed his phone, his finger hovering over the end call button, but something was stopping him from hanging up, letting go.

"See you soon, Mike.”

bzz. bzz.

"You too…”

The rest of the morning dragged on far longer than Mike would have preferred. Mike didn’t mind when Holly had a friend or two over, but when it felt like the entirety of Hawkins Elementary was crowding in the basement, which is Mike’s spot, it was a whole different story.

"Holly!” Mike yelled down the stairs.

His sister peeked around the railing, a few of her friends following suit. She had a cheeky grin on her face, like she knew what she was doing. “Hi!”

"You gonna be down here all day?”

Holly and her friends giggled, nodding and quickly retreating back to whatever activities they were doing before Mike yelled down.

Mike pulled the basement door shut behind himself, resting his back against the wood, letting out a heavy sigh of annoyance.

"Getting Will today?” Karen asked from behind the fridge door, seemingly looking for something in the bottom drawer.

Mike awoke at the sound of Will’s name, his heart once again beginning to race. “Uh, yeah. Soon, I think.”

"Room clean?

"Yeah.”

There was an extending period of silence between the two, like something was waiting to be said. Mike awkwardly shifted his weight between his feet, his hands fumbling with his phone.

"Okay.” Karen smiled, closing the fridge door. “You two want cookies? Also dinner? What do you boys want?”

Mike shook his head, “Cookies, yeah, peanut butter if you can… and do we have Reese’s Pieces?”

"I can have your father get some.”

Mike smiled, his cheeks puffing up a pale pink color. “Thanks, mom.”

“And dinner?”

Mike froze. He had been contemplating whether or not to skip out on family dinner, and this felt like the perfect excuse. No, we were gonna go get something.”

Karen raised a brow, along with a slight smirk. “Oh? Well have fun.”

"Thanks!” Mike yelled as he headed down the hallway and through the front door.

His bike rested against the brick exterior, right where he had previously left it. The last time Will came over, when the two biked so far they thought they had made it into Ohio or Kentucky or some other place. The two got lost after both of their phones ran out of battery and they had to navigate through the woods in the middle of the night with nothing but themselves and their bikes.

The two boys stopped, reasoning that rest was necessary if they were going to find their way back. A clap of thunder shook Will awake, who had fallen asleep on top of Mike.

When the two finally got back, everything itched. They were covered head to toe in bug bites and scratches. Joyce was far past the stage of panicking and had practically reached insanity, despite the fact that El was able to consistently find Will and assured her that the he and Mike were safe.

Will wasn’t allowed to ride his bike for two weeks, and even after the two week grounding expired, he still felt a tad weary about going on another bike ride.

Mike unchained his bike from the ground, something that felt like a hassle more than anything else. No one in Hawkins was that desperate for a bike that they’d steal Mike’s old, beaten up piece of scrap metal. The back tire was nearly flat and the handle bars were crooked, anyone stealing it would be practically begging for a death wish.

Will lived on the far side of down, opposite of Mike. Despite the long ride, Mike didn’t mind it. Actually, he fairly enjoyed it. The wild blowing up against his face and through his air, taking in the sun (though most of the time it’s raining in Hawkins, which Mike didn’t mind either). He always knew on the other side of the ride was Will, so he never was upset to make the ride.

He had gotten quite used to driving this path, like it was second nature at this point. Get on bike. Pedal. Steer. Will’s house.

Turning on autopilot mode allowed him to focus on other things. The plot for his upcoming novel being the one most frequenting his mind. He found it easy to craft entire universes in his mind. Was this basically daydreaming? Yeah, but Mike enjoyed it. He enjoyed visualizing his characters. Their faces, their outfits, their personality, how they interact with each other and how they help the plot to move forward.

Mike sped up the Byers driveway, instantly hopping off of his bike and dropping it, completely disregarding the readily available bike stand. As it crashed into the gravel, Mike walked—no, he skipped— up to the front door, excitement and something more racing through his veins.

He put his fist up to knock, but the door swung open before he got the chance, revealing Will, patiently waiting, a soft smile on his face. He was wearing a baggy pair of cargo jeans that looked like he had worn while painting, splatters of blue and yellow spread about. His green striped tee was slightly cropped, revealing the tiniest sliver of skin right above the belt line.

"Hey.” Will smiled as he slung his overnight bag—which was really his old schoolbag— over his shoulder.

"H- hey.” Mike choked out, his palms suddenly uncomfortably sweaty and his breathes noticeably shaky. He couldn’t take his eyes off of his friend in front of him. Apparently he had gotten some time in the sun since the last time they were together. His cheeks were pink, exaggerating his scattered beauty marks. Mike could nearly see his own reflection in Will’s eyes that were shining in the sun, a hazel trap he could get lost in.

"You alright?” Will walked past Mike, who looked lost as he now stood on the Byers’ front porch.

"Yeah,” he nodded, following after Will, “Yeah, just—”

"—Are you ever gonna get a new bike?” Will laughed as he grabbed his own bike, resting on the bike seat as he waited for Mike.

"Wait, what are you doing?” Mike asked, rolling his bike towards Will.

“I—”

“—Come on,” Mike smiled as he gestured to his bike, “Like old times.”

“Mike, seriously—”

“—Yes, now let’s go!”

Will rested his bike on the ground and walked towards Mike, who was patiently waiting. Like second nature, he slid his arms around Mike’s waist, pulling himself closer.

Sweat started rolling down Mike’s face and he felt every inch of his body warm up, sparkles of heat where Will’s arms met Mike. Obviously, this was just the heat from the sun finally catching up to him— and the fact that two bodies produce more body heat than one.

Mike’s grip continuously slipped from the handlebars, causing the two to get into an accident nearly seven times. For some reason, he couldn’t keep focused as he was biking down the roads, he constantly twitched at every minuscule movement from Will.

Will leaned over Mike’s shoulder to whisper in his ear. "Did you forget how to ride a bike?” he teased, letting out a soft giggle right over Mike’s neck.

Mike jerked, swerving the bike to the side, inches away from colliding into the nearest street lamp. He sped up, his legs pedaling faster, a burning sensation radiating up his calves to his thighs.

He turned off Dearborn and onto Maple, his house sitting at the end of the cul-de-sac. He halted at the mailbox, causing Will to tighten his grip as a reflex.

"Sorry,” Mike panted, opening the mailbox, “Mom makes me check it.”

Mike and Will made their way in, inevitably getting stopped by all of Holly’s friends who were bombarding Will with questions and requests for art.

This started a few months ago. Will was staying over for a night and had eaten dinner with the Wheelers. Holly had a plethora of pens and markers spread across the table, along with one of her sketchpads. She had been complaining about how terrible she was at art and how all she needed was a self portrait for her art class. Will took notice of this, giving Holly a mini-lesson on all things she needed to know: eyes, nose, lips, and hair.

Turns out she took it to school and showed everybody and now all of her friends and their friends want a portrait.

"Hey, maybe another time guys,” Will joked, shooting Mike a look that said, 'oh my God, please save me from this children.’

"Hey! I know you guys love him—” Mike paused, biting his lip like he said something he shouldn’t have. But why? It was true, kids loved Will, hence why Mike had been pushing Will to become a teacher alongside him.

"Later— later!” Will assured the kids as he followed the clearance made by Mike up the stairs.

"Sorry about that,” Mike sighed as his fell into his bed.

Will chuckled, taking a seat at the foot of Mike’s bed. “It’s alright, it’s cute.”

"Yeah?” Mike sat up, a buzz in his chest.

"Yeah.”

"Cute enough that…” Mike started, slowly like he was creeping up to something.

"Yes, cute enough that I’d be an art teacher.” Will finished, his eyes smiling more than his mouth.

Mike’s breath hitched as he watched Will smile back at him. The buzz in his chest blossomed into something deeper, rougher, but all in all, more real. His hand twitched, like his heart wanted to reach out but his brain said no, holding him back like a dog on a leash.

The two hung out in Mike’s room the entire night. They didn’t talk often, there was no need. Each others presence was enough to fulfill them. Mike sat as his desk, hunched over his laptop, fidgeting with a few strands of his hair while he stared blankly at the screen. Will was across the room on Mike’s bed. He was laying on his stomach hovering over a sketchpad. A bit of charcoal was smudged down the side of his hand.

Mike had his playlist on shuffle in the background, something only there to fill the void. Will sprung up out of Mike’s bed at sound of the intro to Boys Don’t Cry.

"The Cure?” Will sat up, crossing his arms like he was impressed.

Mike rolled his eyes and slammed his laptop shut. “Why is everyone so surprised?”

Will chuckled. "Oh, really? Everyone?”

"Yes,” Mike insisted, “Well— two, to be exact. You and Lucas.”

"I think it’s cool, that’s all.” Will closed his sketchpad and left it—along with his pencils—on Mike’s bedside table.

Mike eyed Will as he got up off of his bed and stretched, extending his arms up, revealing a bit more than a sliver of skin. His skin was smooth, adorned with carefully placed beauty marks. His plaid boxers—that did in fact match his outfit—slightly stuck out above his jeans.

Mike swallowed—hard. His hands trembled as he continued to fidget with his hair, messing it up even further than he already had. His cheeks reddened, nearly matching the shade of Will’s—although, Mike hadn’t gotten any sun.

“Dinner?” he asked, completely unaware of his impact on Mike.

"Hm?” Mike choked out as he attempted to straighten out his shirt.

"Dinner, like food.”

"Yeah—yeah, dinner.” Mike rushed to slide on his beaten converse, which were laced up halfway and had a perpetually growing hole at one of the seams.

After a short ten minute conversation with Holly about why she couldn’t go out with the two boys after dark—which ended with Karen giving in and allowing Holly to come along, as long as she stayed close— Mike, Will and Holly were off…

…To the gas station.

It was somewhere close, familiar. A relatively short walk and with a wide variety of snacks and drinks to choose from—as well as at a cheaper price than any restaurant— it seemed like a no-brainer.

"Seriously, you brought your iPad?” Mike asked, slightly ticked off that Holly was tacked alongside him and Will. He didn’t mind hanging out with his little sister, but now was definitely not the time.

"I needed something to keep me company—”

"—We are right here—”

"—Mike,” Will nudged him, shooting him a look politely asking him to settle down.

Mike rubbed his forehead. "Sorry, sorry.”

The walk was far from eventful. Will wanted a try at Mike’s abomination of a bike. He struggled, wobbling as he slowly pedaled next to Mike, who decided to walk. His hands were stuffed into his jacket pocket, his shoulders sagging as he watched his feet as he walked. Holly trailed behind, giggling at whatever overly obnoxious video she had stumbled upon.

Though, this time she wasn't laughing at video, but rather, something of her own doing.

Will insisted on paying for the threes’ snacks, reasoning that since they were staying at Mike’s he should be the one to pay. Mike fought back, insisting that Will was the guest and should be treated as such. After some time, a few playful shoves, and Holly’s unwelcome advice, they settled on paying for each others food and dividing up the cost of Holly’s. The three walked out, each with their own respective bags and ventured their way back to the Wheeler house.

Mike and Will fell into Mike’s bed, sitting criss-cross across from each other. They dumped out their bags, hunting ravenously for the chips and candy they had bought each other.

Mike ripped open a bag of salt and vinegar chips, breathing in the scent. Will kept to himself as he snacked on his pretzels, giving Mike a weird look as he stuffed his face.

"I can’t believe you like those.” Will laughed.

After this, Mike made it his life’s mission to get Will to like salt and vinegar chips. “Come on, try it.” He held out a handful to Will, who pushed his hand away.

He ate another pretzel stick. "I’m good,” he assured.

Mike groaned, putting his handful back in the bag. “Whatever, be like that.”

"Like what?”

"Like— come on just try it!”

Mike pulled out a chip and exited his personal bubble all while crawling into Will’s. He held it in front of Will’s face, swaying it from side to side.

"Do you think you can hypnotize me?” Will said, softer, deeper.

Mike lowered his hand. There was no chip between the twos’ faces, and they finally realized just how close they’d gotten. “Yeah, I think I could.”

Will swallowed awkwardly, his eyebrows twitching for half a second.

Mike, blushing in embarrassment, retreated to his personal bubble. The air in the room had grown thick and the silence had became too loud for him to handle.

"My mom, she made cookies—with Reese’s pieces” Mike spat out, randomly, like it was just something to fill the silence.

Will’s eyes lit up, like he had just been served the most drool-worthy, enticing meal of his life. Of course, Mike knew Will’s favorite candy was Reese’s Pieces, hence why he asked his mom to make them in the first place. “Really?”

"Really.”

"Can—”

"—I’ll go get them,” he said while getting up, tripping as he made his way to the door. “Be right back.”

He wasn’t aware of what time it was, but with the fact that the lights were off and his dad wasn’t asleep in his recliner, it had been relatively late. That tended to happen when he spent the day with Will. Time seemed to fly by, and what was hours with Will felt like mere minutes.

The oven timer glowed neon green in the darkness: 12:03

In a sealed container were the cookies, along with a post-it note from his mother.

Hope you too enjoy these

P.S. I already know what Will’s favorite candy is, you’ve told me a million times

Love ya -Mom

Mike peeled off the note, his finger gliding over Will’s name. What was just a simple, throw-away note to most was something so important to him.

Mike tiptoed up the stairs in order to not wake up his parents or his sister.

When he opened his bedroom door, he was met with Will nestled into one of Mike’s pillows, still in his jeans. Mike stood still in the doorframe, unsure on whether Will was sleeping or if he needed to take the cookies back down.

"I’m awake, don’t worry.” Will whispered, turning his head back to see Mike, still awkwardly standing with a tub of cookies.

"Okay,” he rushed to Will, setting the cookies down on the bedside table, “I’m gonna get on my pajamas—I’ll be back.”

He shortly after returned to his room, taking a spot on the bed while Will went to the bathroom to change.

Apparently, Will was gone long enough for Mike to end up laying down and under his comforter.

"Hey.” Will whispered. He was wearing plaid pants, loose around his hips and a baggy tee—one that Mike had given him a few months back. He said he had outgrown it, but in all actuality he thought Will pulled it off better than him.

"Hi,” Mike sleepily replied, his voice slightly mumbled like he was on the edge of falling asleep.

"Do you—have a blanket,” Will started, holding his arms close to his chest like he was cold, “for the floor?”

Mike sighed— not upset but rather relieved. “Don’t be silly,” he murmured, scooting towards the left side of the bed. “Here, a spot for you.” He smiled at Will, half-awake.

Will nodded, climbing into bed, carefully like if he moved any more the bed would snap beneath them.

“Cold?”

"A little.”

Mike, sleep-deprived and with half of his brain deactivated, inched closer behind Will, sliding his arms around his waist and pulling him closer. Mike’s chest was flush against Will’s back, the only thing separating them being two thin layers of cloth. “Better?”

He felt Will nod against him, taking that as a yes before falling asleep with Will in his arms.