Work Text:
“Miiiiiike! You got mail!”
Mike startled at the shrill sound of his baby sister’s voice breaking through his headphones. He’d been lying in bed for the last few hours, listening to Will’s mixtapes on his Walkman while his family were at church. He hadn’t heard them come home.
“Just a sec, Holly!”
He rolled out of bed and pulled a shirt on, glancing briefly in the mirror before deciding there was no point fixing his wild hair just to see his parents. God, he needed a haircut.
He ventured downstairs with a surprising spring in his step, exciting to see what had come for him in the mail. Most of the people in his life lived in Hawkins, and those that didn’t only sent stuff for birthdays and Christmas, so random mail on the 4th of December was exciting.
When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he went straight to the kitchen to make some coffee. Holly was there, sat at the table colouring in and eyeing up the jar of chocolate chip cookies, on a shelf too high up for her to reach. While the coffee machine worked its magic, Mike quietly reached up the top of the cabinet and brought down the tin, winking at Holly and making a shushing gesture.
Once his drink was made he walked back down the hallway towards the front door. His mom was readying herself to leave, and tapped a single finger on her face with a perfectly filed nail. He gave her a quick peck on the cheek and smiled, and she responded by ruffling his unruly hair and telling him to look after Holly until she got home in about an hour. He held himself back from rolling his eyes at the realisation that his father must have gone off somewhere after church instead of coming home. He focussed his energy instead on the letter that Holly had moved from the doormat to the telephone table.
Taking in the messy chicken scratch scrawl spelling out “Mr Mike Wheeler” and the “Greetings from New York!” sticker pasting the envelope shut, he deduced it must be from Jonathan. Jon, much like Will, had always hated the taste of envelope glue, and mail from them was always secured with tape, stickers, or on one occasion, bandaids.
“Hol?” he called down the hallway to the kitchen, where his little sister was. undoubtedly raiding the cookie jar now Karen was gone. “You wanna see the pictures Will’s brother took of me last summer?”
“Coming!”
Holly ran out of the kitchen so fast her socks slid her across the linoleum, and she almost crashed straight into her brother. Grinning widely at him ( when did her front teeth fall out? Mike wondered), she grabbed his wrist and dragged him through the doorway into the living room, where they both flopped onto the couch and placed the letter on the coffee table.
Mike gently prised the sticker away from the paper, exercising an unusual level of care so as not to rip it. Inside the card-backed envelope was a wallet of 8x6 glossy prints, and a handwritten note.
It took a few seconds to decipher the handwriting, so wildly different to Will’s delicate print.
Hey Mike,
Here’s the photos I took of you in August, sorry they took so long to send. I figured you’d want the candids that you’re in, and maybe your parents would want a look at the studio work?
I don’t know, I printed copies for me, you, Will, and my professor, so you’re free to do whatever. Frame them, trash them, burn them, anything you like. I hope you’re happy with them, my professor thinks they’re some of my best work. Thanks for helping out.
Jonathan.
P.S. See you at Christmas buddy, I’m assuming you’ll be at ours the afternoon of the 25th.
Mike smiled, placing the letter on the table and reaching the take the prints out of the wallet. He made sure not to get fingerprints on them. On top of the pile was the first of the studio shots, Mike with an oversized grey sweater covering his hands and hair hanging over half his face. It wasn’t long after he’d been beaten up by some homophobic asshole down by Sattler’s quarry, and there was still a bruise shadowing beneath his left eye. He was staring off into middle distance, and the studio lights were reflecting in his eyes. In the second, he was sat cross legged and pushing his hair out of his face, looking up (it looked artistic, but in reality Mike had just been confused as to why there was an electrical outlet on the ceiling). The third had him laughing, crinkles beside his eyes and his sweater paws covering his mouth.
“They’re pretty.”
“Thanks, Hol.”
“What were you laughing at?”
“Will. Jonathan was saying I looked really soulful and it wasn’t fitting the project theme, so Will started to dance like an idiot to The Smiths. His hair was bouncing around, he looked so dorky.”
Holly giggled, and Mike looked over, confused. “What’s so funny?”
“You. You’re smiling like Nancy does when her boyfriend visits.”
“No I’m not!” Mike blushed furiously.
“Whatever.” Holly replied, taking the photos from her brother’s hands and looking at the fourth.
They weren’t studio shots anymore. This time, it was the candids from Mike’s summer spent with Will.
Jonathan’s project was something arty and pretentious, “ the whimsical nature of a summer spent on the brink of adulthood, a snapshot of adolescence ”, and featured pictures of Will, Mike, Jane, Lucas, Dustin, and Max during the summer before senior year. This was Mike’s first time seeing the photos, save for one of the whole group that had won an award at the university and been framed in a gallery showing. Jonathan was talented, for sure, but that wasn’t what it was about these photos that made Mike’s heart stop.
The first was from one night that Mike had slept over. Will only had a single bed, so it wasn’t uncommon for the two to end up entwined overnight. This photo was taken as first light was breaking, leaking through the curtains and casting shadows across the two boys in the bed. Their legs were tangled together, arms around each other, and Will’s face was buried in Mike’s chest. The black and white image was high contrast, Mike’s dark hair and pale skin looking almost unreal.
The next image was Mike, Will, and Jane in the Byers’ backyard, Jane lying down flat on the grass watching clouds, while Mike smoked a cigarette, and Will stared him down with a combination of disapproval and love.
Next, was one of the two boys watching TV together, their eyes trained intently on the screen, Mike’s head in Will’s lap, and Will’s fingers twirled in Mike’s long hair.
There were a few more group shots, including one of a piggy back race- Will on Mike’s back, Jane on Dustin’s, and Lucas on Max’s. Mike loved that photo. There was one with some beautiful composition, the group stood in an almost pyramid formation outside the movie theatre, trying to pick a film they could all agree on. There was also a copy of the award winning shot, a shot captured at just the right moment on a day spent swimming at Lovers’ Lake. Mike was out of the water with a cigarette hanging out of his lips, watching birds in the sky, while Will sat on Dustin’s shoulders splashing a wave of water in Mike’s direction. Jane was sneaking up behind them to push Will in the lake. Max and Lucas were a few feet away from the rest, and Jonathan caught the photo at the exact moment the two rolled their eyes at everyone else. Mike knew right away he was going to frame it.
The last photo in the wallet was of Mike and Will, just the two of them, watching a 4th of July firework display. They were stood with less than two inches between them, Mike’s arms drooped around Will’s shoulders and his chin resting on the top of his head. They were both staring off into the sky, eyes glittering and looking astounded.
Every picture made Mike’s chest feel tight. They didn’t feel real. Seeing the group that had been such a big part of his life for so long, presented in such cinematic-style glory, he couldn’t even explain it. It was wonderful.
“Mike?”
“Mm-hmm?”
“Are you and Will dating?”
Mike spluttered. Yeah, he had a crush on Will, that wasn’t exactly a secret , but knowing it was so obvious that an eight-year-old was picking up on it? God, he was even less subtle than he thought.
“N-no!”
“You look like it.”
“Shut up.” Mike quipped back, blushing furiously.
“Do you wanna be?”
“Do you wanna get back to your cookies?”
“Do you wanna stop arguing before you embarrass yourself?”
“Do you wanna stop acting like you’re better than your big brother?”
“Do you wanna be better than me?”
“Already am.”
“You wish you were.”
“I know I am.”
Mike grinned at his little sister, rolling his eyes at how mouthy she’d become over the last few years. She reminded him a lot of himself, and while that wasn’t necessarily a good thing, it was definitely fun.
“Do you wanna date Will?”
“You really don’t back down, do you?”
“Nope. Do you wanna date Will?”
Instead of answering her, Mike just rolled his eyes again and starting tickling Holly. She screeched, trying to escape, and Mike made childish growling noises until she was giggling so hard she couldn’t breathe. He was having a great time- it felt like so long since he’d had fun with his little sister, even though they’d always been close. It was nice to spend time with Holly, and it definitely wasn’t a distraction tactic to take the spotlight of how blatantly obvious it was that he wanted to be more than friends with Will. Definitely not.