Chapter Text
WILL
My day was already bad enough.
It was Sunday. The only day of the week when I get to spend time with my brother, Jonathan. Prior to leaving Hawkins, he promised that he would make time for me.
Sunday. That's what we agreed on. Only one day out of seven days a week, but he still can't stay true to his word.
"This is the third time in a row now," I told him last night when he called to say that he would not be able to make it home until Monday morning. Obviously, the call ended on a bitter note. Jonathan apologized multiple times and said that he would make it up to me once he got back, but I just said whatever and then ended the telephone call. Guilt instantly invaded my heart though. Jonathan sounded exhausted, but he had to work. For us. For me.
Sometimes, I feel like I'm a gigantic wall blocking his way to happiness. But still, I had been looking forward to this Sunday since I'd had a pretty shitty week.
My English teacher failed my perfectly good essay on queer politics out of spite, and I had to work extra just to compensate for the damage it did to my grade. There was also Vance, the guy who probably took an oath to make my school life living hell after he first laid eyes on me. Well, "living hell" might be a bit of an exaggeration since all he actually does is bother me with the most random things and make fun of me as if we were close friends. But I had shit to do—a grade to fix. I had no time for his bullshit.
To top it all off, Max could not make it to our radio hangout last Wednesday. Thanks to Dustin, Cerebro, the ham radio, could reach me and allow me to talk to my family and friends in Hawkins despite the distance between us.
Now I have to deal with this.
This loud, unending banging on our door. As if someone looked at it and thought, 'Hey, why not pound it as hard as I can like it's the firmest punching bag in the world?'.
I swear to God, if this is just some dumb, white, heterosexual kid playing an awful prank, I will be convicted of murder.
BANG! Another loud knock echoed through the unlit space of our living room. "Goodness sake, would you calm the fuck down?" BANG! BANG! BANG! came a sequence of punch-knocks. I might be dealing with a human battering ram here. BANG!
OH MY GOD. I speed walked down the stairs and basically ran to the front door.
As I opened the door, I hoped that whoever was on the other side would fall face-first on the floor due to the amount of force they seemed to put on their grudgeful swings against our innocent door. "What do you want?!" I shouted before the door even opened completely to reveal the source of this rude 2 AM disturbance.
Ironically, it was a dumb, white, heterosexual kid, minus the prank. I almost laughed. I would have, if negative emotions weren't flooding my brain right now. Maybe I should not have opened the door.
After seconds of sorting my thoughts, I came to the conclusion that I'm feeling three things right now: disappointment, shock, and anger. Mostly, I was angry.
Angry that Mike Wheeler was standing on my porch, soaking wet from the rain, looking pale and lifeless. Mike Wheeler, the asshole that cut me off without any warning after leaving Hawkins.
Mike Wheeler. Someone I haven't heard from for a year.
Just looking at him made all the resentment for him that I had suppressed begin to leak out and compel me to punch him square in the face, but I decided against the violence. He did not deserve the satisfaction of seeing that his absence affected me greatly. He did not deserve my time, my attention. He did not deserve an open door. So, I decided to close it.
But he pushed it back with such force that I recoiled away. I looked at him, bewildered. He must have gone crazy. What if that door hit me? I would have been injured.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" I shouted at him as rage settled inside me. In response, he just looked at me, eyes dull and empty. As if he could not see what I was mad about. Then he stepped inside, leaving a wet trail on the carpeted floorboards.
"What are you doing here?" Again, no response. Just those dead eyes and a few steps forward. He was closing in on me.
With each step he took, my anger started to become fear. I couldn't tell what he was planning to do. Hell, I couldn't even make him speak. I was beginning to tremble beneath his gaze. He was looking at me like I was dirt. Something that meant absolutely nothing to him but still ticked him off. Something he could just throw away.
I took a step back, and then another. I backed away until I stumbled on the couch and fell on my back as if lying on it with my feet dangling on its side. "Don't come any closer," I said, frozen in place.
But still, he came closer until his wet jeans touched my pajamas and made my legs shiver. Rainwater dripped from his hair as he looked down at my reclined body. He just stared, silently. Frighteningly.
At that moment, I became more conscious of the dark. I never turned on the lights when I came down in a hurry. The only light illuminating his silhouette and allowing me to see was the faint brightness of the street lamps that entered through the front door that had been left open.
I needed to get up, so I tried to roll to the side but he caught my shoulders and pinned me back to where I was. He was now above me, my thighs in between his parted knees that were both planted on the couch. He had his hands on my shoulder and his face hovering just a few inches above mine.
Cold water dripped all over me, but I didn't dare to close my eyes. I could feel his breathing fan against my face as I tried to squirm out of his death grip.
"Mike, get off of me! Mike!" I resisted but to no avail. He had trapped me.
"It's all your fault. All your fault," he said, finally letting his voice roam the blackness that enveloped us.
Confused, I was about to ask what the fuck he meant, but I was silenced by a pair of soft, cold lips clashing aggressively against mine. At first, I just lay there as he ravaged my lips, but I eventually overcame the shock and responded to his passion.
I did not want to. I did not want to want it. But my body and heart betrayed my thoughts. As much as I wanted to deny it, I was still madly, hopelessly in love with Mike Wheeler. The guy who ignored my existence for an entire year.
I'm so pathetic, I thought as I grabbed the back of his head and ferociously kissed him back. Seconds later, I felt something wet suddenly touch my lips, which made me unleash an extremely embarrassing sound. My lips parted for a second and Mike saw the opportunity to slither his tongue into my mouth and dance with mine. He was kissing me like it was his deepest, darkest desire.
But I know it isn't. I know that in the morning, I would wake up and he would be gone. Like nothing ever happened. So, why shouldn't I just also take this for granted? If you'd be gone by tomorrow anyway, let's just use each other.
I'm so pathetic, I thought again as tears streamed down the side of my face. Nevertheless, I kissed him.
I momentarily retreated to sit up so that my back was on the backrest and he was on my lap. Then I pulled him in again and kissed him like there was no tomorrow. He grabbed my hair and groaned softly against my mouth, trying to gain control. I could feel his hips buckle but we stayed in that position.
Out of breath, he broke the kiss and put his forehead against mine—the tips of our noses rubbing together. "All," he said, but his labored breathing prevented him from completing the sentence. Once again, his eyes met mine, but this time, a familiar emotion dwelled in them. Anger.
"All your fault." My breath hitched as he moved his hands from my hair to my neck. I thought he was going to strangle me, but to my surprise, he just caressed my skin, from the base of my neck to my cheeks. "Just..." he trailed off as his eyelids started falling down to cover his eyes. "Get out of my head, Will."
I couldn't think. I was not in the right state of mind for any introspection. Also, I was not afforded the time as Mike collapsed on top of me.
"You're the one who won't leave mine, Mike," I whispered silently as I circled my arms around his cold, drenched clothes to give him an embrace I can give only while he sleeps.
—CHAPTER 1 END—