Chapter Text
Mike was wrong, once more.
Everything was not alright, everything wasn’t the same, everything sucked, Will was moving on from him, leaving him behind. He didn’t need Mike’s pathetic “protection” anymore, besides, it’s not like Mike did a good job with that. He’d let Will get taken by the Upside Down, he’d let Will get bullied by Troy, and James, he’d let Will get hit by his father, for God’s sake! He’d failed to protect Will from others, from the Mind Flayer.
But most of all, he’d failed to protect Will from himself.
He’d failed to protect Will from his scathing words, dismissive gestures.
He’d failed to protect Will from his own feelings. His feelings for- for him.
His Cleric.
But he wasn’t Mike’s Cleric anymore.
He wasn’t Mike’s muse anymore.
Because Mike had messed everything up.
Everything he was supposed to be using to protect him.
Every. Single. Thing.
He’d used them all against Will. The words that were supposed to bring Will out, adore Will, love Will.
They’d brought him down, pulled him into the very depths Mike himself was drowning in.
Mike’s protectiveness, the one that was supposed to take care of Will, literally protect him.
Suffocated him, into the very box that Mike himself was choking in.
And his feelings. They weren’t supposed to be this much, this- this huge mound. He was supposed to be normal, he wasn’t supposed to be completely forgetting his boundaries and stepping past them.
But he’d had anyway.
Mike’s wrong love for him, his sins.
He had ended up dragging Will to hell with him, taking him away from the light.
Will was the angel, Mike was the devil.
Will was Daphne, Mike was Apollo.
Will was his sun, but Mike was the cloud, blocking his light, greedily using it all up for himself until the sun set.
Mike had taken Will’s wings away from him, ripped them, actually, and let him fall back to hell again and again, when his righteous place had been in heaven, because Will was glorious, Will was holy, Will was a religion.
His religio-
“Mike? We have to go! Will’s boyfriend is waiting for us at the Roller Rink!” He blinked. It all came back to him now. Well, except for one thing. Will’s boyfriend?
Will faced him with a look mixed with fear and disappointment. Shit, did he say it out loud?
Will then ended up looking at El with warning, warning her to be careful.
“Yes, Mike. My boyfriend, Carlton. Do you have a problem with that?” His tone was casual, but reserved, firm. He wouldn’t meet Mike’s eyes, and was looking at his feet.
Obviously, Mike had a problem with that, but not for the reason Will was probably thinking.
The voice was back, and it was laughing with disbelief. Mike rolled his internal eyes.
“I don’t have a problem!” Mike wanted to die. Why was his voice so high and squeaky? He sounded like that cartoon mouse Holly watched.
“We should get going! Can’t keep your boyfriend waiting, right Will?” Damage control failed successfully. Mission: make small talk? Miserably dying in a rotten ditch in the middle of Mike’s heart.
Will flinched like he had been punched. He grasped the rolled up canvas in his hand tighter, almost pressing the sides together.
But Will was gentle, calm, quiet.
Loving.
Love that Mike didn’t deserve, love that Mike was too late to receive.
It is not too late, Michael, do not lose all hope, your Cleric will find his way back to you, just like Mine once did. The voice was small, almost whispering. A nice change from the loud, bold and brave words, from the disbelieving laughs.
It was as if the voice was just him in a different font, in bold. When Mike was in italics and small, the voice was bold and underlined, firm in every word.
But right now they were both the same, yearning for their Clerics, the Psyche to their Eros.
And maybe, just maybe, all hope wasn’t lost.
Why did Mike even START to hope?
El was glued to his side, with his arm around her shoulders. She was leaning into him, her head on his chest. Mike’s hand was just there, if you know what he means. It didn’t give any reassurance, any pressure, any grounding comfort. It didn’t say, I’m here, I’m not letting go, instead it was just there, there. Just muscle (barely), bone (a lot of that), and skin. No warmth, but not cold either.
Mike himself was also withdrawn, mind spiralling with possibilities as he looked out into the window, pretending to admire the arid Californian views. Maybe he could corner Will and force him to spend time with him, force him to acknowledge Mike’s existence.
But did Mike really want Will to see him?
Did Mike really want Will to see how much he wants him, how much he adores him? Would Will be able to see on him the thirst, the hunger, but also the need to vomit?
Would Will be able to see how much Mike wants him? How much he wanted Will all to himself, to be able to touch him every second he was alive, how much Mike wanted all of him. Wanted his love, his affection, even though it was Mike’s sin, Mike’s fault the reason why Will was moving on?
Did Mike want Will to know how he was Mike’s oxygen? How Will had breathed life into him? How he was the reason Mike was still alive, or half-dead?
Would Will be able to sniff it on him like all those kids, those adults, his father?
Would Will hate him for his need?
“Mike! We’re here! This is the roller rink!” El’s enthusiasm was admirable despite the fact that he was barely paying her any attention. She was pulling on his arm, halfway out of the van. Mike let himself be lugged around, his already small attention span focused on the guy Will was talking to. He didn’t have the painting with him, so Mike guessed he’d left it in the van.
He was wrong.
God, why was Mike wrong every single time?
Will looked happy, one could even go as far as to say he looked delighted! His earthbrown eyes twinkled with rarely seen joy.
Joy that only Mike was able to bring out.
Was. Past tense. Mike lost that ability and responsibility long, long ago. A night filled with rain, hidden tears, suppressed feelings, so much water; a huge leak.
ARGH!
Get a grip on thyself, Michael. Thy hasteth to charm sweet William, before that loathsome man taketh thy spot!
Hah! Even the voice agreed that Carlton was ‘loathsome’. No matter how Shakespearean, the voice was still him.
You have cracked the case!
He rolled his eyes, which were still looking at Will and Carlton (ugh, even his name sounds pretentious), which meant Mike technically rolled his eyes at Will, which also meant that El-
“Did you just roll your eyes at my brother?” El’s fiery gaze met his disobeying eyes, and fuck, even with no powers, El (Lady Jane?!) still scared him.
“Uh- N-no, I was just- Uh- Oh! Brother? You guys are siblings now?” Way to change the subject, MIke! So very smooth.
El narrowed her eyes, her glare unwavering. Then they widened, an uncanny resemblance to Will that she most definitely picked up from him. The way her eyebrows furrowed and relaxed? Oh yeah, that’s Will alright.
“You are weird.” She decides. “We need to talk.”
Uh oh.
Alarm bells are ringing everywhere in Mike’s head, shrill screeching and flashing red lights, all pointing to DANGER! DANGER! EL WANTS TO HAVE A TALK! He swallowed back his fear, mustering up all the courage he could (that’s all you have? SHUT UP!) and forcing himself to smile.
“What about? Is it about your birthday, or the day, or Max?” He brought up Max just so that El would soften up a bit, but she remained harsh, sharp edges cutting through the butter he was trying to offer without getting blunt. This was from Hopper, no doubt.
The thought of Hopper brought mixed feelings into Mike’s head, the alarm bells quietening down just a bit so his thoughts could take over. Not that he wanted to think, of course. He was being forced to, held hostage to his own ludicrously half created sentences.
“None of your ‘options’.” She tastes the last word, rolling and dragging it, forward and backward and sideways. Mike gulped. Oh god, was this it?
And was he even going to be sad?
“You have been distant lately.” He opened his mouth to argue that he’d sent her letters for almost every day (at least week) she was in California, but she held up a hand to shush him. She met his questioning gaze again. “Let me speak.” She was calm, so he was calm, cool as a cucumber, in fact.
“Mike. I do not want to be with you anymore.”
WHAT?!
“I have realised that I have not had time to be Jane. You are a-” She hesitated, searching for the right words. Mike was sick. Sick, sick, sick.
“You are a very good friend, but I do not think I am ready to be boyfriend and girlfriend with you.” She lifted her gaze from her shoes. She glared at him, steely and firm, but Mike could tell she was scared of how he would react. Her bottom lip trembled just a little as she opened her mouth to speak again.
“And besides, I am not completely sure if I even like your species.” She wrinkled her nose. Mike, who should’ve been offended at the fact that she brought up that god-forsaken memory, giggled. It was a small laugh, but enough to break the tension between them. El, no, Jane, gave him a slight smile.
“It’s okay, El.” He paused. “Do I call you Jane now?” Neutral territory.
El (Jane?) brought her finger up to her chin, scratching as she thought.
“El is fine, and Jane is also fine. Whatever you want.” She says, eyes glittering just like Will’s.
Oh fuck. His girlfriend of like, 3 years, just broke up with him, and he wasn’t even sad. Instead, he immediately thought of her brother.
Maybe Mike was a shit boyfriend.
“El, I love you, but not in that way. I’m so, so sorry that your first ever boyfriend was a guy like me. I would love to continue being your friend.” He tried his best to shield the tremor in his voice as he said the last sentence. What if she hated him? What if she never wanted to see his face ever again?
What if she still had her powers and had seen his- his-
El chuckled. Then she snorted. Then she started laughing, and it was hysterical, doubled over laughing. Right then and there, in the middle of a roller rink parking lot . Did he do something wrong? Was there something in his teeth?
“Mike!” She patted his cheek with her right hand, turning away from him, and they started to move toward Will and his boyfriend. “I know that you do not love me that way. It is not me who you are in love with,” She lowers her voice, and leans in toward his ear. Mike instinctively leans closer, he wants in on the secret.
“You’re in love with Will!” She whispers, the smile visible in her voice. Mike stops right then and there, mouth gaping wide open, ears tingling and head buzzing over the secret that he knew existed, but wished not to acknowledge it, being out in the open. El laughed at the look on his face, skipping away from him.
“Do not worry, I am not mad. But if you hurt hi-”
Mike buried his face in his hands, willing his stupid fucking blush to go away. He groaned.
“El, stop!”
“Sorry, sorry,” She says, not sounding sorry at all. Then she glances at him and then at Will and Carlton (ARGH), shooting him a sympathetic look.
“Try not to get too jealous. Good luck, Mike!” With that, she skipped away towards the van, hair swishing and swashing.
And there was Mike Wheeler, freshly broken up with, and terribly in-love with his ex’s brother.
Oh, and did he mention the fact that this love of his was taken by a very (annoyingly) perfect man who Mike had absolutely no chance in beating in this fight for the love of his (no-longer his but eventually will be) sweet, amazing, gorgeous, Cleric. Hopefully he could win him over with the same charm that attracted El, but Mike was known to fuck things up.
Extra!
Mike also had to fucking third wheel the entirety of today, given that Jane had disappeared off into god-knows-where.
This was going to be a hell of a “vacation”.