moonshademoth
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Summary
Something is wrong. Something is really wrong. He is hurt. He has to be hurt. When? How? Mike was right there. He was right there.
“Shit,” he whispers. Then louder, “Shit—Will, hey. Stay with me.”
Lucas looks over at the sound of his voice. Dustin does too, their argument cutting off mid-sentence.
Mike barely notices.
He cups Will’s face with one shaking hand, trying to get him to focus. “Look at me. Come on, look at me.”
Will tries.
Mike can see him trying, and that somehow makes it worse.
His eyelids flutter. His gaze catches on Mike’s face for half a second, slips, catches again. There is something open in his expression, something fragile and stripped down and horribly unlike the way Will usually holds himself together.
“It’s nothing,” Will murmurs.
Mike almost laughs, except there is nothing funny in him at all.
“What?”
-- another injured will fic , i am addicted , leave a comment if you like it
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He took a step forward, his eyes scanning the shop for the source of the heavenly scent. His tail caught the edge of a tall wooden stand displaying dozens of small potted lavender plants.
Crash!
The stand wobbled precariously for a moment before tipping over completely. Terracotta pots shattered on the polished wooden floor, spilling dark soil and lavender sprigs everywhere. The sound was deafening in the quiet shop.
"Shit!" Mike yelped, his ears flattening against his head with pure mortification. He dropped to his knees immediately, trying to gather the broken pieces, his tail still going a mile a minute, now knocking over a nearby watering can. "I'm so sorry! I'll clean that up."
"That's... quite alright." The voice was soft, a little hesitant, but it sent a shiver down his spine.
Mike looked up.
And the world stopped.
Or: The werehare omegaverse flower shop au nobody asked for.
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Summary
Will loved ordinary things, an uneventful existence was something he craved. Sadly, when Mike Wheeler walks into his life, Will’s easy going path snaps right in half. A passion he could never imagine overtaking his whole being.
It was too bad their friend groups hated each other and his sister had a huge crush on the musician. Off limits.
Fantastic.
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“Just saying, if you’re taking another hit, you should share it with me,” Mike says, and Will slowly tilts his head, drinking in every word. “It just makes sense. Like, mathematically.”
Will’s reddened eyes narrow, bewildered. “Mathematically?”
“If there’s two hits left, we’d each only get one,” Mike explains. “But if we shotgunned, we’d both get two.” God, this is the best idea he’s had in ages. He should’ve stolen Will’s weed, like, months ago. “That’s like, bang for your buck. This is simple math, Will Byers. Keep up.”
In which it’s well past midnight in New York, Will can’t sleep, and Mike feels like they barely know each other anymore.
So, they get a little high. Mike is very normal about all of it.
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Summary
Will thinks that Mike is not the right one, he thinks that their whole relationship has been stormy. For Mike, Will is the best thing that has happened to him.