Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It felt like an itch at first. El would feel it every time Will would walk in the room, his feet dragging along the floor and sneakers skidding with each begrudging step. El was sure she was the only one who could feel it, deep in her chest and scraping up against her ribs. She ignored it and continued to smile at Max or Mike each time. It was an invisible nudge from something deep inside Will, radiating from his hung head and exhausted, pale eyes. She didn’t say anything. She was the only one who saw it when the Party was around.

But then she started to see it at home. Will would cross the hall to the bathroom and El could hear the drag of his socks on the carpet. It sounded like he had a broken leg, knee unable to bend and all his energy going towards thrusting his leg forward for just one. more. step. She’d crack her door open and watch Will cross back over to his room. The springs in his bed would creak fast and hard as he flopped down on his bed. Her chest would feel another set of nails grab at the inside of her ribs, tugging on each one on the way down to the pit of her stomach. She was afraid one would snap the night she heard a muffled sniffle coming from Will’s room.

El can feel her brother hurting, the digging and itching at her own heart coming from Will’s trembling hands trying to reach out of the darkness he’d fallen into. She’d become so familiar with the dark after so many years, she’d swallowed it up and kept it hidden from the rest of the group. But Will had found it. He’d become it.

El tries once to bring it up to Mike, the one she knows hopes will understand:

“Does Will seem… sadder– more sad to you than usual?” She asks Mike, sitting down beside him on her couch. He has his feet up on the couch beside her, tucking her into the crease. She places her hand on his ankle, getting his attention from the magazine he has open.

“More sad? For you to say that implies Will’s typically upset about something.” He says. Mike places his finger on the page where he’d been reading. He looks up at her like she’s lost again. But she can feel Will tugging at her; he’s asking for help without knowing. He’s bargaining with the blanket of black around him and El is the only one hearing it loud and clear. “He seems fine to me.”

“But… the darkness.” She says quietly, placing a hand on her chest. “I feel it.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” She shakes her head and ends the conversation. “Tell me about your book.”

She listens and pays attention to Mike, her “friend” as Mike starts to say with emphasis. She doesn’t mind the sound of it, but the darkness does.

She itches at her chest when he says it, trying to give relief to the ache inside her. Mike seems to love to say it, grinning each time. El starts to relate the joy she feels with the sinking loss that shifts inside her every time Will is around to hear it. Soon, she begins to associate Mike with the darkness. Will isn’t alone in there, scraping and screaming. He’s screaming to someone.

The second time El tries to voice for her darkness, she has to rattle the light out of Mike:

“Mike, I’m worried about William.”

“Why?” Mike is sitting on the floor of her room while she sits on her bed. El can feel Will sulking in the other room. He hasn’t come out in two days. She’s worried, but she can still feel the itch so she knows he’s at least alive.

“The darkness. He’s loud.”

“El, what are you talking about?” Mike is always patient when El talks over his head, trying to bring her back to their dimension. He’s always patient with her, but no one else, she thinks.

“Will. He’s upset. I think with you. Will is upset with you. You’ve done something to Will.” She says boldly. The darkness stops stirring. A body into the other room does instead.

“A-Are you talking about me?” Will’s voice croaks from the other room. El’s door was kept open for this reason; she wanted to hear him emerge when he finally broke free.

“N-No!” Mike answers, staring at El with furrowed eyebrows. “I mean, El is mentioning you, but we’re not talking about you. Or to you.” He seems embarrassed. The darkness scrapes harder, gripping her ribs.

“I am!” She corrects. “I am talking about you, Will. I’m saying your name. Come in here! Join the parlay!”

The darkness shifts and it feels suffocating to El, like a hand is pushing against her lungs. Will stands in the doorway, blanket around his shoulders and pajamas on at three in the afternoon.

“Did you mean party. Join the party.”

“Parlay has to do with gambling.” Mike adds, looking back at Will. He corrects her vocabulary to not comment on Will’s state of exhaustion.

“Gambling is… risk, right?” She asks, hand resting on her chest.

“Yeah.”

“Parlay.” She repeats. Bringing the darkness closer to Mike, to the light, was a risk. “Will is upset with you.” She says next, suddenly.

“I am not!” Will squeaks, shaking his head. “I’m not.”

“You don’t talk to him.” She says.

“I called him on the phone yesterday.” Mike says with confusion, lifting his hand to shrug.

“Will doesn’t talk.” She repeated. She patted her chest. “The darkness does.”

For a moment, the itching stops. It sinks into the pit of her stomach and pools like a melting icicle. It’s cold and unnerving. Will looks like he wants to throw up or cry. Or both. El knows it’s possible to do both.

Mike looks like he wants to laugh or question El’s reality, but he turns to Will and sees it. He can’t feel the same itching, El still knows that, but she knows he sees it on his face.

“Will, what is she talking about?”

“Nothing. Can I go back to bed?” The hands get frantic, crawling and scraping. It doesn’t want to leave the light, but Will’s panicking.

“No. Stay.” El says.

“Yeah, sit down, Will. W-What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I really don’t want to talk about it. It’s just stupid.” Will shrugs them off and turns around. Mike reaches out and grabs the end of Will’s blanket, keeping him in his reach. Finally, a new hand has a grip on the situation. It’s a softer hand though, it guides the pain away rather than causing it.

Mike tugs Will to the ground and places his blanket more evenly around his shoulders.

“Talk to us, Will. What is El talking about?” Mike is scared and El wonders for a moment if she isn’t all alone in her consumption of darkness. She wonders if their “friendship” is a reunion of two deep, dark pits they’d learned to swallow long ago. No, it can’t be. Mike’s eyes are wide but bright.

“You hate ‘friends’.” El says without malice. They don’t understand. Again. “When Mike says ‘friends’, you sink. It feels like you fall into the dark. You’ve cried before.”

“Friends?” Mike repeats the word slowly, trying to track the intonation El had given it. Friend. Friend. Friend. His face is tight with confusion while Will continues to wince with each word until finally the itch hitches along El’s ribs. “Girlfriend! Are you talking about when I call El my girlfriend– I’ve done it like, twice.”

“Five times.” Will corrects quickly. “You’ve said it five times.”

“Oh… I wasn’t keeping track.” Mike sounds bitter. “Why were you?”

“Nothing.”

“Hey, no I asked you a question.” Mike says.

“Mike, please, I don’t want to fight right now.” Will’s voice cracks. El’s glad it isn’t her rib. He’s fighting more than Mike at the moment, she feels.

“No, go on.” He stops and adjusts his tone. “Please.”

“I just… hearing you call her that is weird. And don’t tell me I’m going to get a girlfriend too because I won’t! I’m–” Will stops. The cold in her stomach turns to ice. “I’m just not going to. And that’s okay, but it’s hard sometimes.”

Mike is lost again, but he shows patience for someone other than El. His eyes go soft and his hands reach to fix Will’s blanket. “I’m sorry you feel that way. I–I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“You’re not– please don’t think you’re the problem. It’s not that. It’s not you. You’re fine! You’re perfect– it’s me. I’m the one who’s… different.” Will panics and surges forward but doesn’t touch anything or anyone. He hovers, but strangely enough, so does the itch.

“Different? You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Mike laughs and shakes his head.

“Isn’t it?”

“No! God, no. You’ll find someone who likes different. We all love different– El’s different isn’t she?” Mike waves out to her with a bright smile. Will looks at her and with a slow blink, she can feel him let go. He stops scraping and his voice fades to a whisper:

“Okay.”

“You’re going to be okay, Will. I promise.” Mike places his arm around Will’s shoulder and rests his head against his. “You’re going to be just fine. You’ve always got us.”

“Always got me.” El agrees. “Always got Mike.”

“Yeah.” Will smiles and it’s only partly empty. It isn’t dark, just hollow. It’ll be filled again soon enough. He’ll be okay.

“We love you, Will. Different or not. It’s all good to us. All our Will. My Will.”

El knows there is no darkness in Mike, at least not the same kind. There might be shadows in him, phantoms that she can’t feel or understand like she can with Will, but that’s because most of Mike is light. He’s bright and warm inside, the darkness inside El and Will silencing and enjoying the sunspots of his smile. Will needed to know he had a place in the light one more time. He seemed to be very forgetful.

El doesn’t know what it’s like to have the darkness grow inside from too much light, but she wants to understand. She wonders if that’s what love feels like.

Chapter Text

The word was new to El. She had heard it before once, coming out of a not-so-friendly mouth at lunch. The next time Lucas was whispering to Max, looking concerned and at a loss. It was a new look for Lucas, which made the new word all the more troubling.

Gay.

The word wasn’t meant for her ears, she knew that, but she files the word away and waits until she was safe at home to explore it. She was sitting on the edge of the tub at Will brushes his teeth. She doesn’t feel any darkness, no itching. She can ask.

“Will, what’s gay.” She folds her legs up and waits for a response. Will chokes out a response. Literally.

“What?” He coughing into the sink basin, clutching the edges. It’s familiar to El. She’s seen it in some distant dark memory. But this time he was only coughing up foamed toothpaste. “What did you say?”

“A gay? Doing gay? H-how do you use it?” She apologies for her mistake. “Teach me.”

“It’s an adjective. Someone is gay.” Will clarifies, wiping his mouth.

“Like little and bad.” She recounted others she’d learned, trying to match it in with her known vocabulary.

“Uh, sure.” Will didn’t agree. His body language tightens, turning toward the sink but lowering his eyes away from the mirror.

“What did I say wrong?” She demands, snapping her fingers. “I want to be right.”

“You are.” Will sighs. “That’s the worst part.”

The conversation ends without El’s consent but with all of her confusion. She calls after her brother, trying to meet him in his room, but the door is shut behind him. Joyce– Mom, El tries to remember– comes around and asks her if she needs anything before bed. She’s always smiling, and now isn’t any different. It’s a comfort El still isn’t used to.

“I’m confused.” She says to herself, but partly to Joyce. “Describe gay.”

“Y-You mean like ‘happy’?” She says with a laugh. “Like, someone feels gay?” The word was easy on her lips, unlike Lucas’.

“Does it also mean ‘bad’?” She asks, letting Joyce walk her to her room.

“Not in this house it doesn’t.” Joyce becomes serious for a moment, shaking her head. She tucks a piece of El’s hair behind her ear and smiles again. “Never in this house.”

Maybe in Lucas’ house it meant bad things. El had never heard of a word that changed like that before. If it changed by house, who else had a different definition? How was she meant to keep track? El goes to sleep certain that she’d get to the bottom of it the next day with Mike.

She practically corners him in the kitchen as he’s getting her water.

“Mike.” She starts with his name, locking him into her point of discussion. He stills the pitcher he’s pouring and looks at her with lifted eyebrows. “Describe gay. Who is gay? Do we know one?”

He rushes to put the pitcher down and nearly covers her mouth. “Not so loud!”

“Is it bad in your house too?” She whispers, ducking to keep their voices between them.

“Just when my parents are home.” Mike mutters. “It’s not a bad word though, El. I promise.”

“But what kind of word means little, happy, and bad?” She rubs her forehead and tries to soothe her rising temper with the inconsistencies of English.

“It doesn’t mean any of those.” Mike says at a normal volume. He finishes pouring her water and hands it to her with both hands. “It just means boys who have boyfriends and girls who have girlfriends.”

“That’s… That’s not one word. How is that an adjective?”

“Well, it’s like, you’re describing how that person is. How they love, I guess. I’m tall and straight. Will’s short and gay.” He is calm. The word doesn’t worry him the way it did Lucas.

“Will’s gay?”

“Well, I think he is.” Mike shrugs. “I mean, he doesn’t really seem into girls right now. And that’s fine too. It’s not really a big deal… to us at least. Other people aren’t very nice about it. Like my parents, so keep your voice down. Please.” She takes a sip of water and is glad he explained his anger. She understands, if only a little bit better.

“We still love Will, right?”

“Of course we do.” Mike says firmly, nodding. “Will’s always been this way– I’m pretty sure. So like, the Will I grew up with is this Will. But now we know what it’s called.”

El nods and lowers her glass. She lets Mike walk her back to the basement, their voices still lowered as they discuss the finer points of El’s new vocab word. She learns quickly that a house can hate a word, but the people inside can think differently. She hopes her house isn’t that way; Mom had said that it had meant happy only. It was good. Will was good.

She carries that with her all the way home. She wears it to the dining table, to her homework session with Hopper, and to Will’s room as she sits on his floor. He’s standing and picking out clothes for the next day. It’s her favorite part of the night.

“Can I tell you something?” She asks.

“Sure, what’s up?” Will hangs a shirt on his closet door and thumbs through his hanging pants.

“I heard you were gay.” El is merely stating the combination of words she heard– Will and gay– but she misses the greater implication. She still isn’t completely sure what the point of the word is. It isn’t like red or soft– you can’t tell Will is anything. “Are you?”

“W-Where did you– Wait, who said that? Was it Troy? Because he doesn’t– he’s not saying it to be a very nice– Who told you? Who told you!” Will is increasingly frantic, shaking his head and stepping away from the closet to his bed. He doesn’t sit down. He holds it for balance.

“Lucas said it first, at lunch. But then I asked you. And then–”

“I told Lucas to keep his mouth shut!” Will sighs, covering his face. “I tell him about the Snow Ball and he just thinks I’m– God! I’m not going to say anything to him!” There isn’t darkness, but there’s a strange fear that opens up around Will. El feels it in the tips of her fingers.

“Tell who?” El prods. “Michael?” Good thing they’d already discussed it.

“N-No.” Will’s lies sound like jokes. They always make El want to laugh.

“Mike told me you’re short and gay.” She relays the information evenly, not sure what the consequences would be.

“S-Short and what?” Will says leaning his head forward as if to hear better. “He didn’t say that did he?” The fear is vast and surrounds Will’s words. The pain of mentioning Mike has changed into the chill of frostbite in her hands.

“Why does Mike scare you?” She lifts her hands, hoping the shivering is evident. “He says it’s a good word in his house.”

“I’m not scared of Mike.” Will says. El doesn’t want to laugh, but she can’t figure out how it isn’t a lie. “That’s not what it is.”

“Then what is it?” El reaches forward to take Will’s hand, trying to see if his fingers were just as cold. His whole hand was trembling. “You can tell me? Mike is my friend. That means we tell each other everything. I know Mike. He’s not scary.”

“Oh God please don’t tell him about this.” Will winces and pulls himself away from El. He keeps his darkness to himself, arms coiling around and keeping it between his ribs. “God, please don’t. He can think I’m gay all he wants but just don’t confirm it… please, El.”

“Are you gay or no?” El asks. “Little, happy, and gay?” She omits one of the definitions given to her; it’s not correct in their home.

“Y-Yeah. I am.” Will laughs and lets his arms hang by his sides. “But, Mike can’t know. I don’t want to make him uncomfortable.”

“Mike says that it isn’t bad. He says it’s okay!”

“Yeah but that’s because he doesn’t think it involves him! Everyone thinks it’s fine until it’s right next to you or sharing lunch with you or sleeping in your house or sharing your bed or your clothes or your whole damn childhood!” Will snaps suddenly. El swears she feel her own heart break. Her hands just go numb.

She’s cold because Will is too. Not physically, but he’s been hiding from the warmth inside their closest friend. He’s been hiding and refusing to be cast into the light. He’s been hiding himself from Mike.

“I.. I don’t know how to use the word.” She confesses. “You’re gay with… for… to… about Mike.” All of them sound wrong.

“I like Mike.” Will confesses. “I’m gay and I like Mike.”

“Oh.”

“And I know that’s your friend– sorry, your boyfriend, but I’m not asking you to even acknowledge that I feel anything. You can ignore it and ignore me and act like I’m just like everyone else. In fact, yes! Do that! Just act like I’m normal. For once, you can have a normal friend!” Will pleas, crouching and grabbing El’s hands. He’s frantically groveling for his own privacy again, as if he’d even slid out of the dark.

“You’re different, we decided that. And we like different. Different is a good word in this house too!” She holds her arms out around her. “It doesn’t have to be dark.”

Will kneels in front of her, still holding her hands. They’d never truly discussed the darkness inside Will, or the one inside her, but they knew it well without words.

Then again… this? This was something El couldn’t wrap her numb fingers around, couldn’t reason the difference Will was insisting existing between them. It somehow made the darkness inside him deeper, going farther than her reach. Maybe she couldn’t feel it anymore because he’d simply sunken down to her feet.

She really hoped that gay didn’t mean the pain she used to feel and presently saw crossing Will’s face. Was that how she supposed to recognize it in Will, how she was supposed to see that Will was gay? The haggard look of exhaustion on long summer days with the Party that would form out of nowhere? The sniffling she heard as she across the hall but never acknowledged in the light of day? The flocking to light that came from a loving source– Mike– who was also El’s closest and dearest friend? It seemed complicated and troubling. But Will handled it so well, no one would ever know.

El smiled and hugged her brother.

She found a new definition: strong.

Chapter Text

“He’s strong.” El had said, ignoring Mike’s question. “He’s not avoiding you. He’s protecting you.”

It was the first confirmation that Will didn’t hate Mike, but it didn’t help him any. What did Mike need protection from? Everything was fine, at least for the summer. Every time Mike tried to approach Will, he suddenly was late for something, even if it was nothing. He left every basement hang out in a rush, or felt tired after only a few plays at the arcade. Mike was sure Will hated him, but apparently not… Although this wasn’t much better.

He didn’t want Will to protect him from anything; they always fought together.

Mike was invited over to the Byers’ house for dinner. When he biked over, El was still out with Joyce. It just left Mike and Will alone in the house together. Mike was secretly thrilled to be given the chance to talk to Will without interruption; he can’t try to go home if he was already sitting in his room or standing in his kitchen. Even if it turns out that Will hates him, they could yell and shout at each other without any interference. Mike could get what he deserved.

Will opens the door without shoes on. Typically when they all agree to have dinner together, it’s a semi-formal event; Hopper’s in a pressed shirt, Joyce has a nice blouse, and El wears her own styling of makeup. Without shoes and a big tshirt on, Will gave the impression he won’t be joining them.

“She’s not here.” Will says stepping back and letting Mike in immediately. “She’ll be back really soon though.”

“That’s okay. We can hang out.” Mike doesn’t shy away from Will. They were are best friends, always have been.

“I–I’m drawing right now.” Will shuffles to the couch and flops down. Mike puts down his backpack at the table and follows Will. He sits across from him and folds his legs up, gripping his ankles.

“I can listen to the story. You always have everything planned out for your characters.” Mike is annoyingly positive and clueless on purpose. Will might not hate him, but Mike gets it if he did. He really gets it.

“I don’t want to talk right now.”

“Will, what’s wrong?” Mike sighs, reaching out to touch him. Will jerks away and it’s the first time that’s ever happened.

“Wrong? What makes you think something is wrong?” Will says, shaking his head. His eyes are burning a hole in his notepad, not daring to lift and acknowledge Mike.

“I was talking to your sister.”

“You mean your girlfriend?” Will says quietly. “You’re more important to her.”

“Hey, that’s not true. She loves you.” Mike argues, poking the top of Will’s sketchpad.

“I know she does.”

Mike doesn’t know what that is supposed to mean. He looks around the house to the echoes of his family members currently out for a moment. Maybe solitude feels more like loneliness to Will than the relief Mike feels when his family isn’t around. Maybe when El and Mike hang out without Will it feels more like abandonment than protection from gross PDA.

“Listen, Will, El said something to me the other day… And I wanted to ask you about it.” Mike says, wringing his hands. Will is sitting on his side of the couch like he could wish it would split into two separate pieces. “Hey, don’t make that face! What happened to ‘crazy together’? We’re best friends!”

“Mike, I don’t really want to talk right now.” Will mutters but doesn’t move. He just wants silence. He still doesn’t mind Mike at least.

“What’s wrong? What did I do?”

“Nothing… You didn’t do anything.” Will shakes his head and swallows slowly. “W-What did El say? Does she need help with something?”

“No. No, it’s about you.” Mike moves closer to Will on the couch.

“M-Me?” His pencil slides across the page as his wrist goes slack. He finally stares up at Mike, mouth open. He looks like he’s going to start choking, his lips dark, almost blue, and his throat bobbing as he swallows again.

“Well… technically it’s about something I said, but–”

“Mike. I don’t like this whisper down the lane shit.” Will snaps. Mike wants to retreat after hearing Will curse. He’s never heard it before and it sounds far too harsh; Mike doesn’t like thinking there is that kind of darkness inside his best friend.

“I know, Will. I know.” He says.

Will’s frozen, his face draining of color like he was plunged into freezing temperatures. “Who told you?”

“No one had to tell me.” Mike laughs, reaching out to Will again. He gently takes Will’s sketchpad and places it on the table; Will lets him. They’re closer together, but Will is still leaning away from Mike like he’s contagious. “You’re my best friend.”

“I can’t believe I made it so obvious. I’m sorry.” Tears well in Will’s eyes and he places his free hands over his face. “I’m so sorry.”

“What! Are you kidding? It’s not obvious, you’re just being yourself! We all don’t care!”

“All… of you?” Will is put off for some reason, regret twisting his bottom lip. It quivers as he sniffles. “Wait… what do you all know?”

“Well, I don’t think everyone knows for a fact but, if we love you now as we know you, it’s the same you as after we know about you… you know?” Mike laughs at his own strange words, tumbling over his tongue.

“Mike… Do you only know… only know that I’m gay?”

“Yeah– wait, what do you mean ‘only’?” Mike moves closer again and Will nearly scales the couch to escape. “Is there more? Is there someone?”

“N-No.”

“Do you like someone? We’d all love to meet them! Oh, Will, come on! Will, tell me, come on. Will!”

“Jesus Christ, Mike! Shut up!” Will shouts. “I like you.” His hands slap against his lap as he gently collapses in on himself. He’s exhausted, like he’s been holding it in for days– although Mike begins to wonder if it’d been longer.

“Oh.”

“Please don’t take it the wrong way… I know you don’t feel the same way. I know that.” Will finally lets himself close to Mike, if only to do damage control. To hold Mike up even though he looked to be the one in shambles.

“You like me?”

“Y-Yeah. Have for a while.”

“And I only started to notice, huh?”

“I guess so. Sorry.” Will mutters, rubbing his palms against his jeans. “I was hoping you wouldn’t know while you were… dating my sister.”

“So she knows.”

“Oh yeah.” Will laughs. It’s a beautiful sound and Mike’s thankful to hear it. “But she’s okay with it too. She knows it’s just hard to be gay right now. The person isn’t really the issue. My heart just happened to fall into the wrong hands, it’ll land better next time.”

Never for one second had Mike thought of romantic feelings– love was too strong a word, he figures– that way before. He’d never had to. Mike never had to worry that the person he would have a crush on wouldn’t even be remotely able to reciprocate. Will was quiet and pulling away because chances were that having to face Mike, and face the greater truth of his feelings beyond Mike, was too aggravating. Mike wouldn’t want to look into the face of someone that reminded him of a fight he’d have the rest of his life while he was just trying to eat fucking ice cream either. Will wasn’t just protecting Mike from feelings, he was protecting himself. Oh, shit.

The one person that was trying to comfort him was making it worse.

“I’m so sorry, Will.” Mike sighs, arms reaching out to hug him. He blinked quickly and tried to hide the tears forming in his own eyes. “I wish I could make it easier.”

“It’s alright. I’m gonna be gay my whole life. You aren’t the only boy who’s ever gonna break my heart, Michael Wheeler.” Will allows himself to hug Mike back. His hands are gentle on Mike’s back; he’s still protecting him.

“I’m glad I could be the first.” Mike squeezes Will’s back and tries not to let him feel his shaky breathing against his body.

“Me too.” Will leans his head against Mike’s. “Let me down easy.”

“You know I love you, right?” Mike sniffles and they both pretend they don’t hear it. “Just–”

“Just not like that.” Will finishes. “I know. But sometimes, that makes it all easier.”

Chapter Text

Mike and Will had reached an understanding after their initial conversation; Will was gay and Mike wasn’t. Will had the ability to love Mike, but Mike just didn’t have the feelings to love Will back. Or at least. That was the plan. That was how Mike had laid it out for himself. How he had lied it all out for himself.

It was accidental, really. Mike never intended for it to go this far. It was just a flutter. A moment of doubt, not in his friendship for Will, but doubt where his own boundaries were. It was after El and his relationship mutually dissolved after their freshman summer of high school. It wasn’t malicious, just two friends reestablishing how they love each other– as just that. In the following months, Mike felt a new sort of loneliness. It wasn’t just an emptiness to his own company, but a sort of ringing in his own thoughts. He could look at all the girls in high school and know how to talk to them and how to flirt with them, but it all felt like an act. Like he was standing in front of a mirror, showing the world what he thought it wanted to see.

He thought then that it was just an awkwardness that came from dating the first girl he met at 13. Mike was sure that he would outgrow it. But the bubbling frustration and crying seemed to age surprisingly well with him. There wouldn’t be an afternoon of stupid girl talk or romance movie reruns that wouldn’t send Mike to his room churning with the argument of yes, but what else. He felt a resistance to his agreement of liking girls, but he wasn’t sure where it came from. He was doing what was asked of him. Everyone was happy.

The frustration was also joined with unreasonably connected thoughts of Will. He’d sit, crying and confused on his bedroom floor and think of his friend. He’d know what to say, Mike would think. Will suddenly became the most comforting thought, and Mike couldn’t recall when it happened. But he could recall when it hit him:

He and Will were sitting in the hallway, waiting for a classroom to open for their high school AV club to meet. Will was picking at the corner of one of his books– he’d been quiet more in the past few weeks. Mike couldn’t place it but it felt familiar, like he wanted to sink into the same silence too. But he resisted, if only to not grab more attention by his parents.

“Hey, is everything okay?” But Mike wasn’t going to let his friend suffer in the darkness alone. “I think we’ve got time before everyone shows up.”

“I’m fine.” Will said, shrugging. He didn’t seem to be lying, but rather at peace with his new silence. “Are you okay?”

“Fine.” Mike wasn’t so confident he wasn’t lying. “I mean, I’m going to be.”

“Breakup still weird?”

“No. Never was.”

“That’s good.” Will said. Mike didn’t remember when he had become a man of so few words. It was selfish, but where could Mike turn if Will’s comforting and prolific messages became quiet glances?

Wait. A glance wasn’t half bad either. In the short moment Will met his eyes, blinking slowly before turning back to his book, it granted Mike the clarity of a strange, delicate intimacy he’d forgotten. It wasn’t just about seeing another person, seeing someone he cared about, but being seen. Will’s short glance wasn’t cut off my discomfort but an overwhelming sense of seeing too much. Mike must’ve had every pulsing beat of his heart dripping down his sleeve.

“Will?”

“Yeah, Mike?”

“Can I ask you something?” Mike swallowed hard, not sure where any of this was even coming from. Will nodded. “Well, it’s not really a question I guess.”

“You can still say it.”

“Do you ever just feel… frustrated? Like, if someone talks to you for one second too long, you’re going to burst? Or if someone…” He blinked. “Looks at you, you think your entire world is ending? But… maybe in the best way?”

“Yeah. I do.” Will nodded. He flattened his palm against his book and breathed deeply. “That’s… something I’m familiar with.”

“What is that?”

“That’s not for here, Mike.” Will hushed, getting to his feet quickly. “Maybe later.”

It was the hurried panic that met Mike’s eyes the second time that struck something deep inside Mike. It wasn’t just that Mike wanted the comfort of Will, as sudden as it was, it was that the comfort was coming from Will understanding exactly what Mike was talking about. He had fear in his eyes like he too had been locking himself in his room and pulling at the hair by his temples.

Will was Mike’s best friend and apparently the only one he could trust.

AV Club passed by in a fog. Mike spoke, he was sure, but he couldn’t recall any of it. Will kept looking at him, like their conversation was a second away from splitting his tight frown and spilling onto the table. His eyes seemed to ask for clarification: frustrated? Are you sure? Mike, please. Please.

Mike didn’t acknowledge the plea, just like he wasn’t acknowledging the shifting ache inside of him every time he forced himself to look away from Will. His composure was wavering but he kept a smile for the rest of the Party. He wouldn’t be caught upset again. His father had already scolded him so loudly his ears were still ringing.

After the meeting, as Mike was unlocking his bike, Will stepped up beside him, clutching his books to his chest. His mom was still picking him up from school. He’d been having a hard time getting home, but something told Mike it wasn’t anything other worldly. It must’ve been the same ache that drove Mike’s bike to the edge of the quarry last Friday afternoon. The same that told him it wasn’t that high of a jump. Again.

“Mike… I’m just gonna ask again… Is everything okay with you and El?”

“Yeah, I told you we’re fine.” Mike said, yanking on his bike lock. “It’s not that. Why does everyone think that!”

“I’m not asking because I think you’re wrong.” Will said, resting his books on the top of the rack. “I’m asking because I’m gay.”

“And what does that have to do with anything?” Mike snapped, the word burning him suddenly. He didn’t like it when it was spat around his home, hearing it said with genuine kindness still got Mike’s knee jerk reaction.

“Frustration, you said, right?” Will didn’t even flinch. Mike hated to become one of the people that Will had to just roll off his back.

“Yeah… But, fuck, just forget I said anything about that. Mom says I just have anger problems.” And maybe she was right.

“Mike, I feel that all the time.” Will said plainly, kicking his one foot out. A stone tapped over the sidewalk to Mike. “Like, you want to scream, but you’re also not sure you’ll even make a sound. And definitely sure no one’s going to look up.”

Despite being unsure, apparently he had made a sound during AV Club. He’d screamed after all. Will was watching the terror pass his face the entire time.

“I felt it the most the summer before high school.” Will continued. “When I was… Still in the closet.”

Oh. Oh wait. Oh fuck, wait. Oh no no no.

“What are you telling me.” Mike said sharply. Fear struck his feet to the floor. “Will?”

“I’m just asking… Is there something you’re not… something you’re not thinking about.” Will muttered, itching the back of his neck. “I mean, maybe there’s a person or something that you’ve been… stuck on? I know I felt that when I–” Will froze and bit his lip.

“When you thought of me.” Mike muttered. Was that all it was? Just thinking of someone? Fuck, no, that wasn’t it. That was stupid. Mike thought of a lot of people, all the time. He was constantly thinking about everyone in school and his parents and his sisters and his friends and–

And Will. Mostly Will.

He thought about the happiness of his family and his friends and his schoolmates. But he only thought, in their entirety, about Will.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. But, that’s not the point.” Will said quickly. “I’m not trying to bring it up again. I know you aren’t into me– but I’m saying that if you’re still upset about El or maybe… someone else, I want you to know that I know what that feels like from… liking you.”

“Okay.” Mike rolled his bike back into the rack. Everything was still, but he didn’t feel empty anymore. “Me too.”

“You too… what.” Will furrowed his eyebrows.

“I think you’re right.” Mike could feel Will’s eyes on him and it was far more terrifying than before, but only because he was dying to meet them too. “It’s from… liking you.”

“Who?”

“You.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. Will! God, don’t make me say again!” Mike cried, laughing. It was the only thing that moved tears in a painless way. Laughter seemed to jostle the loose rattling in his lungs and get him to weep without sobbing. Tears spilled down his cheeks without any need to apologize. He was happy. Finally, he was.

“So, all that frustration…”

“Because 1986 sucks.” Mike said with a new ache in his chest. He’d have to listen to his father and know he was now talking about him.

“Yeah… But, you’re not alone now.” Will said softly. “I’m here, still.”

“I didn’t know liking someone could sneak up on you.” Mike confessed. “I thought I was just reverting back to being a kid… Needing my best friend.”

“I felt the same way.” Will chuckled, picking his books back up. “Until I realized my best friend was my best friend for a reason… Then I felt… well, stupidly ashamed.”

“I’m so sorry for how I acted.”

“You hadn’t caught up with yourself, Mike. I’m not mad at you.” Will reached forward to assure Mike. He grabbed his hand and they both stilled. “I’d never blame you for that. Best friends, right?”

“Well, I opened my eyes now.” Mike turned his hand over and grabbed Will’s slowly. Their hands had never been pressed together so tightly before, never having to slot together in their fifteen years on Earth. Their hands were feeling something completely new, but it felt so natural. So expected. “And I’ve been searching for you this whole time.”