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Steve is at breakfast one morning. Joyce had work late the night before and is driving El to a doctor early that morning, so she isn’t around. Hopper is at work before Will even feels the sun come through his window. When Will comes down the hall and sees Steve at the kitchen table, munching on toast with Jonathan at the stove, he knows what it means. Well, like, he doesn’t really know what it means because what it’s supposed to mean doesn’t apply to his brother. Him and Steve are just friends. But, he knows what it could mean if Steve and Jonathan were both like Will. But they’re not. And he doesn’t want to think about it anyway. Not really.
That’s his brother. And that’s his old babysitter.
“Hey Will!” Steve says, placing his hand over his mouth but still talking with his mouth full.
“Hi.”
“Morning, bud.” Jonathan turns and waves with his spatula. “I’m making eggs if you want some.”
“I’m… not hungry.” Will isn’t sure why he’s uncomfortable. He shouldn’t be. There’s nothing weird about this situation. He just can’t help but feel the stark difference of how it would be if Jonathan woke up to Will and one of his male friends making breakfast. How would it read? Would Will be found out in a second–
It’s all very confusing to Will, but none more confusing than his head when he simply thinks about Mike. God, Michael Wheeler, just the name makes Will feel like he’s being choked. It’s like getting stabbed in the chest while the walls lean in and try to crush him to death. It’s not enjoyable. It’s the most painful love he’s ever felt. But it’s love. Will knows this and it’s horrible. No one would understand. Or at least he doesn’t think so.
“You’re sixteen. You’re hungry.” Steve says without chance for argument. “You were out late last night! What were you up to? Anything good?” Steve asks in a way that Jonathan scolds him for, but Steve pleads innocence.
“We went to the movies.” Will doesn’t remember the movie they saw. He was so distracted by the fact that he failed to end up sitting beside Mike he couldn’t pay attention. He was on the end next to his sister. She held his hand through all the scary parts– was it even scary? Will can’t remember feeling a single thing. He only remembers the sinking embarrassment warming his face as he thought about how hopeful he had been to be close to Mike. How fucking stupid.
“Have a good time?”
“I think so.” Will shrugs, pulling out a chair. “The ice cream was good.”
“Oh! So you got ice cream too! You guys had a full night out!” Will has a suspicion that Steve keeps talking in order to smooth over the awkwardness of being in the Byers’ kitchen in his pajamas. Will hopes his distracted, exhausted nature isn’t contributing to Steve’s running mouth. It’s not his fault. It’s so not Steve that’s the problem.
“I wish you would have told me you were going to get ice cream. I would have given you some money.” Jonathan says, looking at Will over his shoulder.
“I was fine. Mike owed me from the arcade the other day.” Will sits down and pulls his chair in. The metal legs are loud again the floor and cuts up the conversation. It leaves Will to think about Mike– touching his arm and assuring him he’d buy him his favorite cone without even asking what flavor– for just a second too long.
He feels sick. He feels anxious. God, he’s lovesick.
In the pause, Jonathan plates his pan of eggs and places it in front of both Steve and Will. He places a fork in Will’s hand firmly, giving him an in-arguable look. Will folds and prods the food. His brother checks his watch, twice, before muttering something about needing to get dressed sooner rather than later.
Has Will mentioned his brother is a terrible liar? Because this is the time to do so. Will was a master of deception, of keeping his truth feelings about boys and girls (or actually boys rather than girls) to himself, while Jonathan remained as open as a book. It’s a curse, Will thinks, at least in some ways. He has a brother that gets to date who ever he wants, and the only issue is that he can’t seem to cover up when he’s going out. Never who he’s meeting up with. But Will has to explain that no he won’t be taking a girl to prom. He can’t. He won’t. He’s in love with Mike Wheeler.
Jonathan leaves Will alone with Steve, like a strange set up, and goes back to the laundry room. Will pokes the eggs, debating whether or not he wants to cover them in pepper. Just so he can do anything but actually eat them. He thinks he’s going to throw up.
Steve moves and cross his legs under the table. He turns and faces Will more openly. Oh God, Will thinks, what did Jonathan leave Steve to talk to him about? Steve is… well, there’s a possibility that Steve is like Will. Like, a half chance. More than a half chance. There’s a rainbow sticker on the bumper of his car. There’s a least a pretty good chance. But if Jonathan left Steve with him that meant he knew and–
“Jonathan tells me you’ve been really weird lately.” Steve says without preamble.
“Oh. Wow. Thanks.”
“No, okay, not like that.” Steve puts his fork down. “No one is weirder than Jonathan. The man is an enigma. You are not even close, please. Don’t think you’re like him at all. You have friends, Will.” He laughs and Will feels warmed.
He snorts out a quiet laugh and lifts a forkful to his mouth. “Yeah.”
“He just means you seem off. You go to work, you come home, you sleep, you eat– well, sometimes you do. He says you’re quiet.”
“Hm.”
“And he knows you won’t tell him since he’s your brother, but, if you want to talk about anything, I’m your number one fan, kiddo. You know that.”
“I know… I know.” Will mutters, chewing. Steve sits up straighter, like he expects Will to start talking right then and there. Will lowers his eyes to his plate and denies him. “Thanks.”
Steve sighs but nods, patting Will on the shoulder as he stands. His back is turned as he pours himself a cup of coffee and Will is allowed the privacy to bite his lip and weigh his options– should he actually talk to Steve? It’s forced but it’s an opening. Will watches as Steve knows where all the mugs and spoons are. He’s fit into their house perfectly and quickly. He’s comfortable, knowing exactly what each moment and movement is evidently saying about him, about how close he’s choosing to feel to Jonathan. Even if Jonathan doesn’t feel the same way.
Will takes the bait.
“Hey, Steve?” Will tries not to roll his eyes as Steve turns around quickly, light in his eyes.
“Yeah, kiddo?”
“Can I ask you a personal question?”
“Of course you can.” Steve sobers up with a sip from his mug. “Ask away. Just don’t ask what my GPA is, please. I’ve been keeping it a secret from Jonathan for years. He only hangs out with me because he thinks I’m smart.”
“Aren’t you?”
“Not with biology, I’m not.” Steve chuckles, sitting back down. “But, that’s not your question. Please. Go on.”
“Uh, I mean, you kind of answered it.”
“Your question was whether or not I’m stupid?” Steve lifts an eyebrow. Steve might not be stupid, but Will sure feels fucking idiotic. “What’s up?”
“I just wanted to ask… if, you know…” Will spins his fork around in a gentle circle. It’s incoherent, but then again so are his feelings for Mike. Nothing makes sense when he thinks about it– about how his heart doesn’t seem to understand what the rest of the world expects from him. “If you’re gay.”
“I am, yes.” Steve says it without a moment of hesitation. He doesn’t even laugh or have an uncomfortable grin to ease the tension. He admits it. He knows it. It sounds like he loves it. Pride had never looked so comfortable. “But you already knew that.”
“I- I- uhh.” Will knows it’s obvious now. Asking a question he already knew the answer to? That’s a dead give away; he just wanted to hear someone else admit it to give him the all clear. “I just wanted to check.”
“Check?” Steve repeats. “Something make you think I wasn’t?” He teases Will, reaching over and gently nudged his elbow on the table. “Was it my recent trip to New York with my male roommate or the sticker I have on my car that made it questionable?”
“You don’t look like it.”
“I don’t look gay.” Steve cocks his head, looking offended. “You say that like it’s a good thing… Does it bother you that I ‘don’t’?” Steve’s asking all the right questions. He is too good at this.
“No… I just wish that… wish that I didn’t…” Will mutters, his words fumbling together.
“That’s fair.” Steve shifts and crosses his legs again. “Does it bother you, people thinking that you are?”
“Steve, I am.” Will says quickly, the ending of his previous sentence rushing out before he can stop it.
Steve blinks. He smiles. “Does that bother you?”
“N-No. At least, I don’t think so. I’d just like to be able to keep it to myself for like, five seconds.” Will sighs, folding his hands in his lap. “I look like–”
“I don’t think it’s anything with your appearance, Will.” Steve cuts in. “I think it’s your fawning look at Mike.”
Will doesn’t even have an argument. He has no counterpoint to how hopelessly in love he must look to everyone. Mike must see it. God, he is a fucking idiot. Will wishes he hadn’t opened his mouth. Just knowing how embarrassing his feelings were was enough. He didn’t need other people to be aware of them too.
“Have you told him?” Steve asks. Will shakes his head. “Have you told anyone?” Again, Will shakes his head.
“No. I can’t tell anyone.”
“Well, whether or not I look it, I can keep a pretty good secret.” Steve reaches over and takes Will’s hand. “And you know what else? I promise I’ll forgive you for saying I don’t look gay if you promise to talk to me about whatever you’re feeling.”
“You don’t have to be my mom, Steve.” Will mutters, his eyes darting around. Anywhere but Steve’s kind and sincere look of concern.
“I’m not. I’m being your friend. Because it’s hard out there. When I was sixteen, I would’ve needed two beers and money to tell you I was gay that quickly. I don’t want that for you. And neither does Jonathan.”
“He doesn’t know, does he?” Will feels the walls start to lean in. He pulls his hand from Steve to prepare to hold them at arm’s length.
“No. No he doesn’t. But, I can tell you that he’s more than okay with me and I want to extend that feeling onto you. Tell him when you’re ready, but know he’s not a menace. He’s weird but he’s not a bigot.” Steve lets Will pull away and doesn’t reach for him again. Instead he turns the fork back toward Will. “Eat up before it gets cold.”
Steve turns back to the table and lifts his coffee cup. He clears his throat and minutes later, Jonathan comes back into the room. His clothes aren’t any different. He’s honestly the worst liar.
But Will isn’t, because he decides, in a burst of strange impulse and excitement, that there isn’t a lie he’s going to tell anymore.
“Hey, Jonathan?” Will says, taking another forkful of eggs. He holds it by his lips, ready to fill his mouth and silence him in a second’s notice. “Egg’s are good.”
“Oh, thanks I tried something a little–”
“And I’m gay.”
Steve spits up his coffee all over the table, coughing and choking. But he’s laughing; he’s completely grinning as he wipes his mouth.
“Wow.” He says to Will, coffee dripping from the tip of his nose. He looks like he’s shocked, like he wants to be just as scared as Will, but there’s something else. His eyes are getting glassy suddenly and his eyebrows are furrowing together ever so slightly. He’s tearing up. Pride took yet another form.
“O-Okay.” Jonathan says, lowering himself into the third seat. He looks absolutely sidelined. Will feels so powerful. He’s visible but he’s in control; heart eyes but stiff upper lip. “Umm, uh… Fuck, Steve what do I say?”
“Well ‘okay’ isn’t it.” Steve says with a laugh, still wiping his face and shirt. “Try ‘I love you’ or, oh, I don’t know, ‘I’m glad you told me’?”
“I– yeah. That. Proud. Love. Happy. All of it.”
“Jonathan, why are you acting so surprised? He didn’t tell you he killed someone. You’ve heard a lot more startling things from Will– from this whole town.”
“I am surprised!”
“Are you kidding!” Steve says, waving his arm out to Will.
“Hey, you said I didn’t look gay.”
“You told my brother he looks gay.”
“NO! No. I– stop. Both of you!” Steve places his hands on each of their shoulders. “As the in-house professional in this topic, may I?”
“You told my brother he looks gay.”
“I didn’t!” Steve sighs heavily, shaking his head. “I’m just saying, Jonathan you left me with Will. You left me with your brother after saying you thought something was wrong. To me, that kind of says something.”
“I didn’t think that! I thought he’d talk about his one annoying teacher or something.” Jonathan shrugs. Will blinks at the two men in front of him. He somehow doesn’t feel like the stupid one anymore.
“You left me, your only gay friend with your brother, who you’ve told me you feel like you can’t quite understand about some things, because you thought he was going to approach me about… academia? Jonathan, I’m an idiot!”
“You are not.”
“I am! I’m gay and I’m stupid but God, you’re worse. You’re straight and clueless!”
“Sounds like Mike.” Will mutters under his breath, continuing to eat.
Steve turns his head quickly to catch Will’s mildly-dejected expression. Will expects a scolding or a pep talk, but Steve just starts laughing again. He points at Will, tapping the table near his plate. “We have a winner: gay and hilarious.”
Will can’t help but smile too. Gay and. Not gay but. It’s a positive. Will hasn’t been changed by admitting anything, just like Steve. He was still able to sit at their table and have coffee. Will is still able to eat with his brother. His life is still in tact. The walls are still far away, giving him space to breathe. It’s freeing, to know that if anything, no matter who loves in him return, Will still loves himself.
“Thanks for telling me, Will.” Jonathan says finally. Correctly. “Have you told Mom? Any of your friends?”
“No. God no.” Will laughs. “You think I want to tell Mike? Ha. No thanks.”
The table stills. “Why don’t you want to tell Mike?” Jonathan took Will’s approach; asking a question he already knew the answer to.
“Nope. Nope. One confession per day. No no no.” Will says, pushing back from the table. “I’m not falling for that.” It was bad enough Will was falling for something, someone, else. He didn’t need to fall face first into never-ending embarrassing torment for having a crush on his childhood best friend.
“Okay.” Steve says, placing a hand on Jonathan’s arm, stopping him. “Okay. You don’t have to talk about Mike. Or any boy. That’s your business. But if you need an ear. We’re here, okay?”
Steve has coffee stains on his shirt and Jonathan still looks like he’d seen a ghost, but they were still the two faces of the only people who were truly seeing Will. They were still able to look him in the eyes— this time not wistfully staring at his best friend– and smile back at him.
Maybe not all coming out situations would end like this for Will- well, hopefully not, he didn’t like bearing his soul in his pajamas that much– but this was at least a safe first time. Maybe with his friends it’d go different. Maybe Mike would turn away with a look of fear and disgust, but at least Will knew what acceptance looked like. That was his first memory of being an honest teenager. Sure, there were many other memories of being loved that Will had to hold close, but this one felt special. It was finally a secret that felt good to keep.