Work Text:
“You’re distracted.”
“What? What’re you talking about?”
“…Will?” She asked, softly.
Mike’s pulse quickened.
(Will was dead. His body ugly and decomposed, looking unlike anything he appeared as when he was alive. Will had always soft, gentle smiles, listened to others so intently, he never thought… Will Byers was supposed to live a happy life.
He deserved that, he deserved to be happy, and he deserved to be breathing.
Maybe - just maybe - if he did something, anything, he would’ve been next to them.)
“Well, yeah, he - he’s my best friend. Just,” he groaned, “I’m worried, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?”
El didn’t reply. Instead, she lay back down without saying a word.
Whatever. It wasn’t like he wanted a response anyway.
Will laughed. “What are you staring at me for?”
It was for a multitude of reasons, as always. Maybe it was because he just seemed so damn happy, and he was donning the widest grin Mike’s seen in ages. Or, maybe, in the glow of the setting sun, Will always looked so pretty, and he just couldn’t help it.
Mike just shrugged. He could hear Will almost scoff. “Jonathan showed me another track recently.”
“Yeah?”
His head hit the grass. He let his eyes close.
Mike could feel the wind. The grass itched his arms. He could never be happier.
He rambled, and Mike could hear blurs of excitement; he could practically imagine his grin. At times, times like these, it felt like something only reserved for him.
There had always been about Will that made Mike feel like he was special. No one else in the world knew Will Byers, not like he did. No one knew him like Will did.
The way Will brushed his hair with his fingers, the way they held each other, it was something unique to them. It made Michael Wheeler, a boy with (what he considered) the most mundane name in the world, feel so, so special.
Will laughed again, running a careful hand through Mike’s hair. “I think I bore you to sleep.”
It was a few years back now, after Will’s dad left. They were on the roof of Mike’s house, a scandalous activity if they were caught. It didn’t matter much to him at the time.
“I-I don’t know,” Will stammered, “he just… called me these things sometimes. The same things the kids at school call me.”
Will paused and brought his knees to his chest. “It just felt like, I don’t know, sometimes, I was trapped.” He paused. “It’s weird now.” If Will were here now, he’d put it in much more eloquent words, but they were just kids. Too young to be this anxious. They didn’t even have a glimpse of the shitstorm to come yet. “He’s just— he’s just gone, and he’s not - he’s not coming back.”
Mike put his hand over Will’s. He interlocked their fingers. He didn’t understand, not completely anyway. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, “I’m so sorry.”
In the span of a few minutes- or hours, he wasn’t quite sure- Nancy opened the window and said Will had to go home. Will rubbed tears away with his sleeve and wished him goodbye. Mike waved from the rooftop.
They’ve changed. At least, Mike certainly has. He didn’t try to ignore Will, it just… happened. He had a girlfriend now. Things changed.
(He was selfish. Somewhere deep down, Mike always knew that about himself. It hurt. It hurt to look at Will and think about what could’ve been.)
“Do you ever come up here without me?” Will asked. Mike didn’t think much of it.
“I mean, yeah, sometimes. When I need to… think.”
He hummed.
Mike never held Will’s hand anymore. He didn’t wrap an arm around his shoulders when they were upset or stay up just because Will couldn’t sleep.
There was something inside him that yearned for the melting sensation he felt when he used to hug him.
Yet, Mike Wheeler was in love with Jane Hopper. She was awfully pretty, that was obvious enough. Long brown hair, soft and careful touches, but she wasn’t Will. She would never be.
He knew, he had always known if he even said a word of this to his parents, Nancy, his friends— anyone would think of him differently.
He wasn’t supposed to a fairy, a queer, or a fag. He was supposed to grow up, move past all the awful shit he saw as a kid, and have a big family.
He wasn’t supposed to love Will Byers.
“Hey,” Will said, breaking the silence, “are you okay?”
“Fine. I’m fine.” He loved El. He had to love El.
Steve was trustworthy. After all, Dustin had been talking to him for awhile, and overall, he seemed like a pretty knowledgeable guy.
Mike entered the Family Video apprehensively. He didn’t even bother pretending he was there to rent The Outsiders or something. In all honesty, he just wanted to get straight to the point.
“Is Steve here?”
Robin turned around. “Harrington, another child is here to see you!”
Steve groaned, turning away from a girl or something, Mike didn’t care enough to try to figure it out.
“Wheeler?”
“Yeah, and I’ve got an issue.”
Steve paused. “Woah, woah, woah, I thought this was gonna be another, like, monster problem. But you’re…”
Mike groaned. “I thought you’ve dated a lot of girls.”
“Hey, yeah, ‘course I have, but could you just… slow down and tell me your problem?”
“I’m dating El, right?”
Steve quirked a brow. “Yeah, the girl with literal superpowers. Wouldn’t forget her.”
“Yeah, yeah, it’s just… what if I, y’know, like another person, and what if I have for a while, it’s just I don’t want to ruin stuff with them.”
There was a long pause. For a moment, Mike thought if it lasted any longer he’d just run out of there. It seemed like the best option.
A few more seconds passed.
“Well, I mean, I think you can shoot your shot. If this girl has known you for a while, I don’t think she’ll care if you like her. Besides, I don’t think she’ll want to ruin your guys’ friendship, ya’ know?”
Mike stayed quiet for a while. Steve thought he fell asleep.
Shit. Shit. Just say it, Mike. Just admit you’re a fucking queer already. “He’s not a girl.”
“What?”
Oh, God, Wheeler. You’ve really messed it up this time. He’s going to tell every fucking person he knows and—
“He isn’t a girl.”
“Oh- oh.” Steve turned around, ushering Robin over. They kept their murmurs just out of earshot, but Mike could imagine what they were saying.
God, why couldn’t Will Byers be a girl?
Robin cleared her throat. “Hey, you know it’s totally okay,” she finally said. “Y’know, liking other guys like that.”
“I’m not gay,” he replied, harshly. Steve gave him a look.
“I thought I wasn’t either, but apparently, you can like both, and it’s totally okay.” He shrugged. “Crazy world.”
Robin snorted. “What?”
“It’s just,” she started, “you’re practically plagiarizing what I said to you.”
“I am not! I’m just… reassuring him. There’s nothing plagiarize-y about that.” He sighed, putting a hand on Mike’s shoulder. “It’s okay if you like people with boobies and people without boobies; this is a free country. ”
Robin made a disgusted face. Mike swatted Steve’s hand away.
“What about this mystery boy is making you go insane?”
“It’s just that, ugh, it’s Will,” he finally said, after a moment of deliberation. “It’s Will Byers.”
Steve almost laughed; Robin punched him.
Now he was thoroughly embarrassed. He just said something that he had never once in his short, pathetic life ever said aloud, and Steve Harrington is laughing at him. Steve Harrington.
Robin gave him a shove. “Well, okay, it’s not like - it’s kinda obvious, Wheeler.” Mike’s face went bright red. “You guys are practically, like, glued together. I mean, c’mon.”
He rolled his eyes, but Steve continued. “Haven’t you known that kid since you were, I dunno, two?”
“We met in kindergarten.” Mike wrung his hands together. “We were six.”
“Same idea,” he said, shrugging. “My point is I don’t think Will would wanna mess up your relationship,” he gave Mike a grin, “and besides, maybe he’s into you. Like, I wouldn’t be too surprised.”
He paused, helping another customer. “Anyway, you can still totally be friends after that if he doesn’t. That didn’t stop me and…” Steve trailed off, now oddly focused on the customer in front of him. In any normal situation, Mike would pry, but now… didn’t really seem like the time. He wasn’t that clueless. “Nevermind. My point is that he probably likes you back, dude. He’s probably head over heels; you’re head over heels, you guys are a perfect match.”
The audacity Mike Wheeler had to even think that maybe he couldn’t get more embarrassed, but Steve Harrington decided to say that.
Mike rolled his eyes. “Jesus Christ.”
In a world full of monsters and a literal Hell under them, Mike felt the most alone because of the fact he liked boys. Hawkins really was shitty.
He remembered the day Will left. Vividly.
It wasn’t a move to the other side of the world or another planet.
Just to California.
Around 2,200 miles.
He counted down the days until he— they left. It felt like shit. Everyday he didn’t spend with either of them felt horrible. He was wasting time. It was so fucked up. He couldn’t lose El and Will at the same fucking time. Not again. Mike was told to not cry about it, to not be so sad because after all, it was just California.
Honestly, he just wished his parents would shut the fuck up.
Jane Hopper, his girlfriend, and basically the person he should have spent the rest of life with (because everything’s so permanent when you’re thirteen).
Will Byers, his best friend. A person he couldn’t imagine his life without. With all the freaky shit that had happened, it had always been Mike and Will. Will and Mike. He couldn’t let that go.
“I’ll miss you,” Mike said, practically breathing into the crook of Will’s neck.
“I’ll miss you too.” Will squeezed him tighter between choked sobs. He felt his tears stain his shirt.
“I love you,” Mike almost said.
He imagined Will saying it back. He imagined that, maybe, he would press a kiss onto his shoulder and say it back.
“I love you too,” he would say. Maybe. Just maybe.
Mike always felt above other teenagers in some regard. Besides, he’d seen horrors they couldn’t even imagine.
But when he found himself almost throwing up on the floor of some random person’s house, he thought, maybe, just maybe, he was just like every underage drunk.
He just wanted things to be normal.
Was that so hard?
He guessed he wasn’t typically invited to parties because he wasn’t really a part of that crowd. And “that crowd” would probably rather die than invite a possibly queer person to their party.
That was just a theory though. A pretty likely one.
Later into the party, Mike sort of fell into a pool. He remembered that part vividly; the constant cold of his shirt was really bothering him. Maybe he was pushed. He didn’t know.
He also felt like he forgot how to walk, either stumbling too fast or too slow (which is probably how he ended up on the floor). It wasn’t like he was bleeding or anything, so he was pretty okay.
Lucas and Dustin came in here with him, but he didn’t really know where they were. He didn’t care much anyway, it’s not like they cared where he was.
He kind of felt like crying.
Which would probably would’ve been an absolutely horrible thing to do since, well, he was in a pretty public area, and no one wants to see Mike Wheeler sob.
Will wouldn’t have left him.
A true, albeit rude thought.
If he were here, he’d probably be right next to Mike, calming him down or… something. Instead, he kept bumping into people and knocking over shit.
“Wheeler?” Someone called, seemingly shocked that he was there. “Do you have a ride home?”
“What?”
“Do you have a ride home?” The guy repeated, louder and with an emphasis on practically each word.
“Who are y—” Mike almost said, until the face got close enough to actually be recognizable. Steve Harrington.
“I’m giving Robin a ride home. You want one?”
“Yeah, yeah.”
He didn’t remember much of the car ride, honestly. He got in and… leaned against the window. The slight breeze calmed him enough, and he would’ve been the most infuriating person to speak to in a ten mile radius.
There were a few moments of silence where Steve Harrington, honest to God, thought Mike was dead.
It was broken by Mike muttering incomprehensible nonsense. They parked in front of his house— all the lights were out. That was good.
Steve reached over to wake him up, but Mike was… crying? Shit. Mike was crying.
Always the goddamn babysitter.
Mike reached for the car door. Steve and Robin shared a look.
“Wheeler.”
He groaned. “What?”
“Why are you— What’s going on? Spill.”
“It’s nothing, okay? It’s nothing.” Steve could make out Mike rolling his eyes before he opened the car door again. Jesus. Teenagers.
His parents could’ve given less of a shit about him. As long as he was getting okay-ish grades and no teachers were complaining about his behavior, he’d be fine. So, when he snuck into the house, he had little to no worry about actually being caught.
There was a creak in the floorboards. Oh, shit.
“Mike?”
That certainly wasn’t his mother. “Nancy?”
“Are you drunk?”
“What? No- what?” Nancy gave him a look. The same sort of glance Steve and Robin always gave each other. She knew.
It was stupid of him to lie anyway.
“You never… seemed like the type,” she said, without missing a beat.
“I’m not, like, an avid drinker.” Mike sat down, careful to hold onto the arms of the chair.
“Why did you…” She didn’t bother to finish her sentence, but Mike knew what she meant.
“I don’t know. I just… I don’t know.” He paused. “I wanted things to be normal, I guess.”
Nancy crouched down, matching their eye level. “You can talk to me.”
Mike slumped his head back. He would much rather do anything else than deal with Nancy Wheeler’s disappointed gaze. “I know.”
She put her hand on his leg. “Talk to me, Mike.”
He groaned, fixing his stare onto the ceiling. “I don’t know- it’s just… it’s just weird. Everything. All of it. Will- El— they’re gone ‘n… I don’t know. I write shit to El, but it’s just- it’s just like we’re in love, ‘n I just- I just don’t know anymore.”
He could sort of make out a frown on Nancy’s face. Weird.
“You should… talk to El about this,” she replied, softly. She was never one to speak so gently to him; he assumed she was trying not to wake anyone up. Either way, it was putting him to sleep. As his eyes began to close, Nancy picked him up, slinging one of his arms around her shoulder (God, she was a lot stronger than he remembered). She ended up practically pulling him upstairs. He never thought Nancy would take care of him ever again, if he was being honest.
(He missed her warm hugs and stories about school. He missed when he desperately tried to stay awake as Nancy spoke, fantasizing of what being a teenager would be like.
He always wanted to ask her a plethora of questions about her classes, the people there, and if any of her friends would want to play D&D.
He couldn’t exactly pinpoint when they… drifted. All he knew was Nancy stopped talking to him, so he stopped talking to her.)
Mike ended up stumbling his way to bed as Nancy pulled a trash can near his bed. “So you don’t throw up on the floor, okay?” He muttered out something incomprehensible and gave a nod in return. “Jesus, Mike - how’d you…” She quickly picked up something from the floor and handed it to him. “Change, please. Don’t get sick.”
Mike hummed. The floorboards creaked ever so slightly, and the light from the hallway slimmed. “Good night, Nance.”
“Good night, Mike.”
He stripped of his damp clothes, haphazardly putting on the ones Nancy had thrown at him. There was something so relieving about being surrounded by his comforter, even if they were just haphazardly thrown on top of him. Soon after settling into his bed, Mike shut his eyes tightly. The spinning and his slight dizziness had gotten too much to handle; he just needed it to stop, just for a moment.
On the brink of sleep, his mind began to wander.
California.
2,200 miles.
Will Byers.
Ordinary. That’s what Mike Wheeler was, but there was always a festering feeling almost exploding in his chest around him. He felt akin to a fireworker or sparkler, loud and bright. There was something burning inside of him instead of his heart. It was the sun setting, the humid air of summer days, it was the soft smiles of his best friend.
El made him feel like a fire on a match. Vulnerable and small, constantly yearning for something more. He wanted to be a blazing flame in a fireplace, something to make him feel like he was burning.
(God, could he be more stupid?
“From, Mike.” What kind of dumbass move was that?)
Will was pillow forts on stormy nights, shoulders brushing each other while they watched movies, he was early mornings and late evenings. He was everything to Mike.
(Jesus, how does he tell El?)
“Mike, please— just- just keep your eyes open. It’ll all be okay.”
He wished time would still. The car (was this Steve’s?) was going way too fast for his liking, and if he wasn’t so glued to Will, he’d most definitely fall to the floor. He rolled over slightly; Will winced at the sight of it.
“Just, um, stay still for a little, okay? You’ll be okay,” he ran a hand through Mike’s hair, “you’ll be okay.”
Truth be told, it had been awhile since his last near death experience in Hawkins.
There was a gash on his back or leg - he couldn’t even recall.
Tears dripped from Will’s cheeks onto Mike’s shirt. He could feel him trembling. He squeezed his hand every minute or so, just so he knew he was still breathing. After a few moments of being conscious, Mike squinted through blurry vision. Nancy was with them, keeping her composure collected, as per usual, but her eyebrows were furrowed ever so slightly, and she was completely focused on the street ahead of them.
There was something inside him that just felt… guilty.
Will held him for the rest of the ride.
Getting out of the car was a blur. Will and Nancy helped him out, and everyone else was following behind… somewhere.
He was practically cradling his flimsy limbs, and in any other situation he’d be horrifically embarrassed, but it was Will. Will was holding him tightly; Will was whispering reassurances in his ear. Mike Wheeler had never felt safer.
It was grey out. There was no sunshine creeping through the windows, only Will waiting in a chair beside him. He smiled.
“Mike - oh, my God, Mike—”
He could see a fog in his eyes. Mike grabbed his hand.
There was no sunlight brightening his features, just the soft light of the house. Despite the darkness of the room, Mike could make out his furrowed brow. He slouched in his chair, inching closer to Mike.
“I’m here,” he said, voice cracking and wavering. “I’m here.”
“We were worried about you.” Will squeezed Mike’s hand, not even daring to raise his voice slightly. It was soft, almost too soft, as if this was a secret between them.
Mike dropped his hand from Will’s. “I’m here.”
“I know,” he muttered, after a moment of silence. “Just for… a bit, it felt like, maybe, you weren’t.”
He reached for Will’s cheek. It was still slightly red and blotchy. He remembered his voice from the last night, the only thing close enough that he could make out; blurry scenes of Will crying plagued him.
He wanted to inch closer, to fill the gap between them. He wanted to whisper the words that had been stuck in his head ever since he moved away from Hawkins.
He can’t.
He really can’t.
He can’t do that to El.
“El,” he finally said,” where’s El?”
He needed to tell her.
A mixture of dejection and hurt washed over Will’s face for a moment; if Mike hadn’t been looking, he surely would’ve missed it.
There was something in that look of discontent that gave Mike hope. Just a spark of possibility - maybe, just maybe, it was going to work out. (It shouldn’t have. It really shouldn’t have. Hope was something someone like him should never have - he had to come to terms with that a long time ago.)
Will pointed vaguely to an area. “I think she’s over there somewhere. I saw her talking to Max earlier.”
“El,” he wrung his hands together, “can we - can we talk?”
“Yes,” she said, patting down at the seat next to her. “Sit.”
She was smiling at him - she was fucking smiling - he can’t, he can’t— He couldn’t muster up anything. He tried with a few stammers, but… he couldn’t tell her. She loved him, she always did.
Fuck.
“Are you okay?”
She stared at him, expectantly; he stared back, but not as he should.
“I love you,” he blurted out, and her eyes went wide. “I love you, but… I-I don’t know, there’s just - there’s just something wrong with me.”
“Wrong… with you?” She made their eye meet, despite Mike’s unwillingness to do so.
He bit his lip. “I love you, El, I really do. I just - I can’t like you the way you want me to.”
The room filled with silence. “Oh,” she said, finally. “Are - are you…?” Her voice went quieter. “Is this…”
Mike shifted uncomfortably. He tried to say something as Will would, in a soft, gentle tone, but all his stupid voice did was crack and waver.
He watched as El stood in thought.
“I’m sorry.”
She took Mike’s hand. “You did not do anything wrong.”
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, gently.
“Stop,” she breathed out, “don’t say that.”
He rubbed at his eyes. “Will,” Mike rasped. “I love Will.”
“And I love you. No matter what,” she said, wiping tears off his face. “No matter what.”
They were on the swings again.
It was a breezy day, like all those years ago.
Mike arrived early for once in his life. He had to say it. He had to.
Will arrived only a few minutes later, unsurprisingly on time.
“Hey,” he said, sitting on the swing beside him. Mike could recognize that voice from anywhere.
He couldn’t help but smile. “Hey,” he echoed. “Are you - are you excited to go back?”
“Kind of,” Will replied, shrugging. “I’ll miss you.”
“Yeah,” he breathed out, “yeah. I’ll miss you too.” He continued after a moment of deliberation. “Hawkins… it’s not the same without you.”
Will chuckled. “You’ve already said that.”
“Yeah - yeah, but I really mean it.” He sighed. “I don’t know what I’m going to do without you.”
Will reached for Mike’s hand. “Just… be yourself. It’s hard, you know, to figure out these things. I wasn’t sure what I’d do without you either, but then… I sort of found where I fit in. It just takes time.” He paused. “Besides, you joined Hellfire, right?”
A pang of guilt struck Mike. “I’m sorry about that, by the way.”
He shrugged. “It’s fine.”
“No - no, it’s really not. I was being a complete idiot. I ignored you when you actually wanted to play with me,” Mike groaned, “I was just being a jerk. I’ll get the party back together the next time you visit, I promise.”
Will squeezed Mike’s hand. “You promise?”
“I promise.”
Mike’s gaze drifted, landing on Will’s lips. There was a warmth that spread through his body, one that was so familiar and synonymous to Will. Will, warm blankets and hot chocolate, cool days and lemonade, he was just… everything. How couldn’t he be?
Will stared back. An overwhelming urge always filled him at careful, gentle moments like these, when the sun shines so perfectly on him, where it was only the two of them, no distractions.
He just wished he could fill the gap between them. Maybe Will would. Maybe.
He couldn’t see Will leaving again without saying anything.
He had to say something.
“I had something - I had something to say.”
He almost laughed. Mike’s heart skipped a beat. “Okay.”
“Okay,” he echoed, pathetically. “Okay, um,” Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. “I love you.”
Something in Will’s expression faltered. “I love you too,” he replied, with a hint of confusion tainting his tone.
“No, I love you,” he repeated, voice just above a whisper. “I really do. I know it’s so fucking weird because you’re my best friend and all that shit. I just - I just wanted to say… that.”
Will just stared at him, dumbfounded. “Is - is this a joke? If it is, it’s not funny, Mike.”
“What? What - no, why would this be a joke?”
“You didn’t…”
“I didn’t what?”
“You didn’t notice,” he said, breathlessly. “I thought you knew. The whole party did.”
“Knew what?” Mike asked, groaning.
“I’ve liked you for years, Mike.”
He dropped Will’s hand from his grasp. “What?”
“Please don’t make me say it again.”
He was dreaming. He had to be dreaming.
Will placed his hand on Mike’s cheek, intertwining his fingers into his hair.
Oh, my God.
“Oh,” he whispered, dumbly.
Will inched closer. “Oh,” he echoed.
“Prove it,” he said, staring up at him. “Prove it.”
“Mike - what? That doesn’t even - why would I—”
“—Prove it,” he repeated, his face becoming increasingly warmer. “I don’t believe you. Prove it.”
“Are - are you sure I can…”
Mike smiled softly. “I’m sure.”
Will filled the gap between them. Mike couldn’t recall a time where he was happier. It was awkward and cheesy, but he couldn’t even begin to care. All that had been running through his mind was Will. Will, the boy that had been by his side since kindergarten, Will, the one person in the world that could make Mike feel special, Will, who was everything to him.
His hands moved to grasp more of Mike’s hair, and he felt like he was on fire. Anywhere he touched felt like it was burning; Mike never felt more alive in his life.
Will pulled away.
They both couldn’t stop grinning.
“He kissed you? Dude, dude.”
Robin grinned. “You owe me twenty bucks.”
Mike’s smile faltered. “Wait- what?”
Steve handed Robin her cash from his jean pocket. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Did - did you guys bet on… oh, my God.”
They shared a look; Mike’s face went bright red.
Oh, my God.
It was only a matter of time before they went back to California. El gathered everyone so she could wish them all goodbye, just for nostalgia’s sake.
“I’ll miss you,” Mike said, pulling them together.
“I’ll miss you too,” Will replied into the crook of his neck.
Just as they were about to let go, Will pulled them closer together. “I love you so much,” he whispered, so the message was only heard amongst them.
“I love you too.” Will, very quickly, brought them into another embrace, carefully pressing a kiss on Mike’s shoulder.
He pulled away when Joyce called his name out again, and Mike couldn’t help but feel empty.
“You seem distracted,” El said softly, a hint of concern tainting her tone. She paused before continuing, keeping her gaze situated on the car floor. “Mike?”
Will grinned. “Always.”