Chapter Text
“here’s… uh, here’s my room.”
a week later, and kaspbrak’s room was not at all what he expected it to be.
his room was covered in bookshelves filled with poetry and collectibles. his bed, in the center of the room, was a king sized four-poster with stickers lining each of the posts, and the blankets were neatly laid out as if freshly fixed. his floors were hardwood, which was uncommon, but welcome with the soft checkerboard carpet lining half the floor. the books to his left lined the desk, and he ran his fingers along his multiple worn copies of edgar allen poe, stopping at the notebooks with pieces of paper sticking out. drawings were taped to the wall above the books, and will got a glimpse of what seemed to be iron man fanart, alongside a signed copy of a batman comic. he didn’t care too terribly for batman, but he could appreciate the value and hilarity of someone like anthony kaspbrak owning these kinds of things.
on the opposite wall to the desk, there were papers taped up to the roof with writing littering the pages. with a few steps into the room, he could see that they were kaspbrak’s own poetry and ramblings. there wasn’t a hint of basketball in his room, and it didn’t seem like there ever was.
with a reserved smile, will realized kaspbrak was the kind of guy who valued art above most else.
“i know, it’s not what you expected. everybody says that, but. my cousin likes this sorta shit, and he’s the light of my life, so. i, uh,” kaspbrak, after a minute or two of will not answering initially, seemed to get nervous under the scrutiny of his eye, and continued to talk. his eyes caught the long, slender hands moving up and down, up and down, as he moved through the room and explained things without prompting. “i, uh. you know. started getting into the things he liked, and suddenly, i’m a total freak about it, really. a loser, if you will.” he seemed to laugh at his own comment, and will got the sense it was an inside joke.
he scratched the back of his neck as he continued to look around the room. it didn’t take long for him to find the half-done sketch of the project, propped up against the wall next to his bed. the side table had his paints, hand picked and ready to be used, alongside his watercolors. next to them both, he saw a canvas with a painting of a boy with a cast, half finished, with the only notable color being a red ‘V’ covering the black ‘S’ in ‘LOSER’. it felt… private, and it looked astonishingly like kaspbrak.
will looked away, but found the other teen looking right at him, hands on his elbows. “that’s, uh. my cousin. eddie.” will gave a small smile as if he got what having a younger family member was like. one that was, by the looks of it, bullied at the very least. jonathan babied him all the time, even going as far as to beat the shit out of a set of his own bullies, but. come on, dude – whoever eddie was, kaspbrak was clearly enamored with him. will can see kaspbrak look at him, get nervous, talk about his cousin, be fine, repeat, and, god. he’s so out of his depth here. “he’s out with his - his friends right now. it’s been hard on him after… derry, so i’m happy he’s, like. acclimated.”
and, damn , will could absolutely relate. he knew the feeling of moving and your friends being ripped from you.
setting his own canvas and supplies down – the floor is clean, and he gets the sense it was cleaned for his arrival – will grabs at his own arms. this situation is awkward, but he can tell he’s in the ‘exposition’ phase of their… budding friendship? awkward encounter? “uh, yeah, i get it,” will says (the first thing he’s said since going upstairs), and kaspbrak snaps out of whatever funk he was in. immediately, will gets the sense he said the wrong thing. “oh, um. i mean, like, you know i only recently moved here too, right?”
now, kaspbrak just hums, looking will up and down before looking away again. “yeah.”
and that was that.
will swallows, popping his knuckles and focusing on a random book on his shelf instead of him. will’s not… inept, or whatever it is you’d even call it nowadays. he knows that, if this were a girl, and he were straight, they’d probably be all over each other. but kaspbrak isn’t a girl, and he’s not straight, and he’s in the star basketball player’s bedroom, and they’re both really awkward, and maybe, maybe this isn’t how he planned it when he told his mom he was going over to a friend’s, and maybe –
kaspbrak clears his throat. “uh, let’s get, like, started? i guess?” then, with another small silence, he sat on his floor next to the collection of paint and canvases. will followed, sitting a few feet away, and promptly ignored his entire line of thought up until then.
in the back of his mind, will noted how abstractly odd this situation was, although not for the first time — anthony kaspbrak, the star of the school, was an awkward, stuttering, and art-and-poetry-obsessed nerd behind closed doors, and a popular jock to the public. he could easily imagine the leather jackets and studded belts getting replaced with a white turtleneck, or a pair of the ugliest sneakers known to man, and passing kaspbrak off as the other loser of the school. their shared interests were what made them, well, them , but also very easily displayed the social incompetence they both might very well have.
will looked around again with renewed intrigue and took note of how the basketball captain had virtually no outside interest in basketball. again, he noticed that there wasn’t a poster, or a uniform display, or even the trophy he had seen him win last fall. everything outwardly displayed had a tint of philosophy or artistry to it, mixing in with the overall vibe of comfort, and he knew from his time with steve that this wasn’t really normal for jocks.
and then, will thought: maybe he’s faking it.
he looked back to him. he was running a hand through his hair, biting down on his teeth; his jaw was sharp and angled, with cheekbones prominent and shining against the yellow light from above. he was in his head, and much more reserved than will thought him to be. he either spoke all at once or not at all, and always looked more nervous when around him than others.
will, acknowledging he’s been quiet (and, he guesses, ever so slightly getting his hopes up), starts, “so… so how do you want to do this?”
a few seconds pass, and will takes this as the time to grab his small notepad from his pocket. kaspbrak’s eyes catch his movement, and will twitches.
“oh,” he replies, “well, to be honest with you, man, i thought it’d be cool to play, like. twenty questions.”
“twenty questions,” will says blankly, and kaspbrak nods. will awkwardly readies his pencil. “right. um, okay, then. what’s your favourite colour?”
and, expecting a simple answer like blue or yellow, will jumped when he started on a small rant about it, breaking the tension.
“that’s literally the most boring question save for, like, what my favourite season is. you get to ask a man anything…” his eyes lit up. “wait, i’m gonna play some music. ask me something fun, will.”
will .
will hid his flush by turning his head to the notebook, waiting for kaspbrak (or is it anthony, now?) to put on music. “shit. uh, okay. why did you move here? to california, i mean.”
once anthony ( anthony! ) got up to put the record in, the room welcomed AC/DC’s highway to hell with open arms, and anthony turned towards him once again. he seemed to he looking for something — will thought it was a reaction to the music at the time — and wouldn’t look away as he answered. “shit, man! getting my backstory up front? that’s cool. it’s actually… well, pretty unbelievable, i think, but you’re not at high enough friendship level to get all of it just yet.”
god , will thought, glancing to anthony, he’s a nerd, too. how is this fair?
“but,” anthony continued, sitting down right next to him, “uh. his mom’s kinda shit. i’m not gonna get into full details because it’s not my place, but. i was easily able to get custody, so. that should tell you somethin’. movin’ to cali has always been my dream, too, so it seemed like a no brainer. 18 and a home-slash-apartment owner-slash-renter. cool, right?”
and now will feels like he’s not allowed to write anything down. it feels almost like an invasion of privacy, now, to have asked that, so will just nodded at him. “that’s… uh. i mean, good on you, anthony.”
immediately, his mood brightened. “call me tony!” his hands clapped, and the next song came on as a segue — another AC/DC, this time i was made for lovin’ you. “anyway, i guess it’s my turn. why did you move to california, willy?”
his nose scrunched at the nickname, and memories involuntarily surfaced to the top of his mind.
mike and his annoyingly striking smile. the party and all they’ve done for each other. the kidnapping. the demogorgon. the shouts for him that he can hear through the walls of his enclosure.
then, cutting himself off, he remembered his family already had a cover story, and he can very easily replace his past with a fake one (this, if any, was one of the only times he mentally thanked his pseudo-shrink).
“willy? what are we, five ?” he jokingly snarled, and got nothing but a smile in response. his heart skipped a beat. “my family needed a new start. after - after we adopted jane, we all decided to leave hawkins behind. it was a smart idea at the time, but with angela and everything, it’s… well, just as bad, really.”
anthony — tony — nodded along. he didn’t seem to be taking notes, but then again, will only takes them because he has a shit memory. “man, i get that. angela’s a piece of shit. i’ll talk to her boyfriend about you.” then, after a second or two, “and hopper, of course.”
will stared.
and god , it felt so nice to be put before el.
“of course,” he said, and his smile lit up the room.
then, another interlude filled with a cheerful silence, followed by will looking back down at his notepad to contain his smile. “so, what’s - what’s up with you and basketball?”
tony rolls his eyes. “i’ve always liked it. not much more to it than that.” will stared at him for a quiet moment, begging him to exaggerate. when he did, it felt like a shot in the dark and a pierce into the soul all at once. “someone can like multiple things at once.”
“oh. yeah, i guess that’s fair.” tony snorts, and will feels the notebook is useless, then, and sets it on the floor beside him.
“yeah, no shit. anyway, my turn! when’s your birthday? when’s the big man turning 18?”
will excitedly shifts, and their knees touch. tony watches his hands move up as he begins to speak, emphasising everything he says. “my birthday’s pretty soon, actually. its the twenty-second of march, and - and my best friend is flying in from hawkins to go skating with me. and - and jane, too, which is his girlfriend, but. we’ve been friends since birth, so…”
he trails off, looking away as tony smiles at him. his hands fall to his lap. he doesn’t apologise — a step in the right direction for him — but he will always feel scrutinised upon speaking for more than a sentence or two. not to mention he’s talking about mike , his…
“well, happy early birthday, william. i’m hangin’ with jameson — you know him as angela’s boyfriend — that day, otherwise i’d totally crash,” tony says, and he’s still smiling at him. “hope you enjoy yourself. not many people would fly all the way out here just to see their best friend. really makes you think.”
will swallows. god, he has been thinking about it. he’s been thinking about it since he was eleven. mike’s been his best friend for longer than he could remember ( birth , he reminds himself), and he’s caught himself daydreaming about what could’ve been (what they could be ) more than once this month alone.
with mike coming in just over a month, and el constantly complaining about him or their relationship, will had gotten his hopes up. he knew mike would never feel the same — “it’s not my fault you don’t like girls, will!” — but he was a hopeless romantic in love with his childhood best friend. he was desperate and upset and going through a botched ( queer ) version of puberty.
he felt a hand on his back. “hey, man. didn’t mean to cause you to, like, go into your mind or anything. how ‘bout we order pizza and watch a movie? just for a bit.”
he looked back to tony, whose eyes were wide and his smile
so
forgiving, and decided he was allowed to forget about that for a bit. tony was
drop dead attractive
, and who would he be to say no to pizza and a movie?