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A familiar voice paired with the uncomfortable cramped feeling in his back and legs stirred Will awake. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he drearily saw Lucas close to his face and wildly snapping his fingers to get his attention.
A wave of fear rushed over Will for a second, distant reminders of the week he spent in the Upside Down. The fear that crowded his mind constantly, even after he was rescued. But that fear quickly dissipated as Will felt a heavy hand on his shoulder.
"Will, Will. It's just us, okay?" Mike comforted in a tone that was low enough for only him and Lucas to hear. Will's shoulders relaxed, and the teen let out a short and quiet sigh of relief before pulling his legs out from under him and starting to get himself up and out of the van.
Apparently the group had let him sleep while they unpacked the van, because looking around now, Will could see that floor of the van was no longer littered with bags and bikes and the bodies of his friends, but instead dusty footprints and tiny stones that most likely got stuck in the groves of their shoes.
Mike and Lucas had already gotten out of the van, Max presumably before Will even woke up. Will watched as Lucas walked two bikes into a distant clearing in the woods, but Mike lingered around enough to help Will hop out and shut the back exit doors.
"You know I can get out just fine by myself, right?" Will asks Mike with a slight grin. "Uhh yeah, of course," Mike pauses, racking his brain for any excuse possible, "Just didn't want you to slip or anything, you know, 'cause you just woke up."
Will takes notice of the awkward smile and the light shade of pink beginning to spread over Mike's face and ears, but decides not to say anything and laughs it off internally before walking over to Jonathan.
The driver side window rolls down slowly, almost too slowly, and Jonathan curses under his breath about how much of a "piece of shit this thing is," while his friend, Argyle, laughs dopily at him from the passenger seat.
"One day you're really going to need to upgrade this thing, man," Jonathan half jokes with Argyle before finally manually rolling the window down as much as he could.
A look of slight concern is shared between the brothers, before Jonathan begs Will to be careful, and that if he needed anything, they were just down the road a mile or so.
Will promises that he'll be safe, telling Jonathan that he had Mike, Max, and Lucas if something went wrong, but quickly corrected himself saying, "But nothing will go wrong, okay, and it's just two nights."
The voice yelling "Come on, Will!" is faint from the tree line, but encourages Will and Jonathan to wrap up their conversation. Jonathan revisits the idea of keeping in touch one final time before allowing Will to walk away, but almost immediately calling him back.
"What now?" Will jokes as he approaches the window once again, but drops the expression on his face and mirrors the nervous one of his brother.
"Promise not to tell Mom, okay dude?" Jonathan says, avoiding eye contact with Will, seemingly looking for something in the center console of the messy van.
Will hesitates before promising, glancing at Mike who's now closer to the edge of the woods. Mike gives him a confused look, almost as if he's asking 'what's happening,' but all Will can deliver is a shrug back and a confused look of his own.
Finally, after what feels like an excruciatingly long minute, Jonathan retrieves a small, yet long, tin can that was typically used for storing sticks of chocolate along with a metal lighter.
"Oh, Mini Byers! You are in for a treat tonight, man!" Will hears Argyle pipe up from behind Jonathan, who half-laughs, half-scoffs.
Jonathan hastily flicks open the tin to show Will the contents, and relief visibly floods his face as Will returns this gesture with a wide and slightly bewildered smile.
Will gratefully takes the tin, surprised by this newfound trust between him and his older brother. Will opens his mouth to say something, to thank Jonathan probably, but he's cut off by Mike calling after him.
"One second," Will yells back, and he can tell his voice is kind of shaky with nerves. "Be careful. I trust you with this stuff for a reason, okay Will?" Jonathan begins, "Don't overdue it, sleep it off if it ever feels like it's becoming too much, and have fun, buddy."
"Yeah! Have fun little dude," Argyle practically yells, though he's only a few feet away from Will.
With a ruffle of the younger boys hair, Will is sent off to reconnect with the rest of the group, nerves still pulsing his veins and making him sweat more than the Indiana summers heat should have.
"What was that about?" Mike asks, sensing some type of discomfort or change in the energy radiating from Will. Instead of answering, Will just holds up the tin, showing it to Mike.
"Chocolate?" Mike questions, a goofy yet confused smile breaking out along his lips. "No, stupid," Will finally replies, handing the tin over and directing him to open it.
"Oh my God," the taller reacts as he shuts the lid in a hurry. Will puts his finger to his lips, quickly pulling it away along with the tin from Mike.
"How many do you think are in there?" Mike asks in a hushed tone. "I don't know, Mike. I didn't count. Enough though," Will guesses, and signals for Mike to not tell the other yet.
They boys guess they are probably around a quarter mile behind Max and Lucas when the pair begin shouting something about hurrying up. Mike and Will share a knowing look, and begin sprinting in the direction of their friends voices.
The heavy backpacks on their backs don't make the run easy, and the loose sticks and rocks below their feet don't either, but they make up the distance in a little under 3 minutes.
Completely out of breath, both boys fold over and put their hands on their knees in order to catch their breaths, faces red and hair disheveled.
"Wow," Max breathily laughs, "That is the most pathetic thing I have ever seen in my whole life," her remark getting a laugh out of Lucas.
"Shut up," Will and Mike reply in unison, then turning to look at each other and bursting out in laughter.
The group spends an hour or two picking up the campsite, throwing branches and old beer bottles off into the more dense section of the forest before setting up their tents.
Mike decides to take initiative on putting together the tent belonging to him and Will for the next couple of days, but quickly ushers Will over to help when he sees the progress of Max and Lucas.
Eventually, the tents are set up, Mike and Will requiring a little help from Lucas, but set up either way.
Sleeping bags are rolled out, pillows placed in the slot where you put your head, bags filled with clothes and personal items placed in their respective tents, and shit. Will forgot an extra blanket for inside the sleeping bag.
Cursing quietly under his breath, he asks around to see if anyone brought a spare, but unfortunately for him, no one had space in their bag to bring an extra.
"Guess you're going to have to cuddle up with me," Mike jokes confidently, and Will awkwardly laughs as he goes back to unpacking his personal items. Mike's joking, of course Mike is joking, why wouldn't he be? But the comment leaves a funny feeling in the pit of Will's belly.
This cleared section of the woods, Marshal's Rock, as known by the locals, was an extremely popular party spot back in the 50s and 60s, but grew unpopular due to the increased police presence in the area after a party caused a kid to be hospitalized from alcohol poisoning in 68'.
Of course now, nearly 20 years later, the police don't patrol this area as much, allowing for kids like them to hang out and camp here.
Lucas attempts to start a fire with just sticks, "the old fashioned way," he makes a point to emphasize, but is unsuccessful after a few tries so they resort to lighter fluid and dry leaves.
Once the fire was gleefully burning, the wind unable to devastate the flames despite its best efforts, the group made their way around the campfire, Max and Lucas cuddled up on one side and Mike and Will not cuddled up on the other.
The bag of stolen alcohol resides untouched next to Lucas' and Max's tent until Mike brings it up later in the day.
"Hey guys," he presents confidently, "I think it's time to have a little fun."
No one protests this suggestion, and each member is passed a cheap lukewarm beer to sip on around the fire.
None of them were too experienced with drinking, most only stealing sips from their parents occasionally and playing up being drunk around their friends to look cool.
Lucas was the only one to actually get drunk prior to this trip, going out with his basketball team after winning finals and drinking until he couldn't see straight.
They made their way through beer after beer, the fire crackling and illuminating their faces as the sun set and the night got darker.
Laughs got louder, their words became sloppy, and eventually someone decided that they had had enough alcohol for tonight, bringing up how they still had another night in which they could get shitfaced, so they had to ration the beer.
To Will, everything was funny. The way Max's legs were lazily sprawled across the armrest of her chair and into Lucas's lap. The light from the flames licking everyone's faces, casting funny shadows. The hand puppets of dicks and dogs and rabbits and birds and foxes.
But the thing he found most funny was Mike. The way his words slipped out of his mouth and he would jump up, covering his mouth and pretending to fight his mouth in order to keep the words in. The light from the fire below him casting long eyelash shadows upon his eyelids. The way he kept pulling Will up to dance and sing to no actual music.
They snacked throughout the night, too drunk to actually prepare any of the food they brought. They made s'mores and told old memories that no one remembered.
Around 11, Max checked her watch and decided that she was going to bed, excusing herself to change into her pajamas in the tent.
Jokes continued, and stories from before Max joined their party arose. But it wasn't long before a small voice was heard from the tent, and Lucas excused himself as well.
Max left the tent while Lucas changed, but she didn't return to the fire, instead just saying goodnight and telling Mike and Will to be careful before returning to the tent once she got the 'Ok' from Lucas.
Mike and Will continued doing whatever it is that teenaged boys did, talking loudly and cracking "your mom" jokes at every chance they got.
Will was close to dozing off in his chair when a light hand was placed on his left arm. "Hey, Will," He heard Mike's voice, "Do you want to," a hitched breath, "smoke?"
"Umm," Will hesitated, "Yeah."
"We shouldn't do it here though," Will continued after a moment, searching Mike's eyes for some sort of confirmation that he really wanted to do this. "There's a spot up there where we can. Far enough away to not wake up Max or Lucas," he said, pointing to a large rock on the hill in the distance.
Mike nodded, getting up to shift through his bag, probably looking for a flashlight, while Will went to their tent to retrieve the tin and lighter along with bug spray and Mikes blanket.
"You don't have to do this, you know," Mike comforted as they walked up the hill together, teenage limbs occasionally knocking. "I mean, not if you don't want to."
"Mike," Will replied, "I want to. Trust me," he said with a small yet powerful laugh.
Once they reached the rock, Will spread out the blanket, leaving enough slack on one end to pull up and over them if needed.
They sat down, knees touching, when Mike remembered that they probably should have brought water.
"Hold on, Will," He said, getting up from his current position to the right of Will.
"I'm just going to grab some water," he reassures as he hurries down the hill without answer from Will in an attempt to be as quick as possible.
Will knows he doesn't have to answer, and watches Mike's silhouette as he reaches the campsite and digs through a bag in hopes of finding water.
Eventually he does, holding it up for Will to see and making a mock victory face before returning to Will on the blanket, smiling as he does so, and handing the water bottle to him. Will wonders if Mike had sat closer to him this time on purpose, but quickly squashes the thought, nerves taking over.
They douse themselves in bug repellant, praying that they wouldn't get eaten alive without the safety net of the fire smoke.
Both boys are visibly nervous, fidgeting and sitting in silence before Mike asks, "Are you sure you want to do this?"
"Yes Mike, I'm waiting on you," he laughs.
"Okay then," Mike says, indicating with a hand for Will to take out the tin and retrieve one of the tightly packed joints inside.
Will does so, hands slightly shaking until Mike drapes his overtop, steadying them.
"It's okay, Will," he smiles, and grabs the lighter sticking out from Will's back pocket closest to him, ensuing in Will freezing at the unexpected touch.
"Sorry," Mike paused awkwardly, "I should have asked."
"No, no, you're fine," Will replies, "It just surprised me, that's all," he says, becoming more relaxed and leaning into Mike.
Will clears his throat and nervously whispers, "I can go first, I've done this before."
"Oh. Uh, okay," Mike replies, clearly a tinge of disappointment in his voice. "Can I light it for you?"
"Sure," Will says, lifting the joint and placing it gently between his lips before turning his head to face Mike. He hadn't realized how much closer they were to each other now, but he didn't mind, really.
"Go ahead," he says through the obstruction in his mouth, and Mike does so accordingly.
The bright flame from the lighter glows near Mikes face, casting an orange shadow upon his face.
The lighter flickers once before Will pulls away, inhaling slowly and releasing the joint away from his lips, letting the smoke sit for a moment before blowing it out, stifling a cough.
"Wow," Will hears Mike whisper under his breath.
"Do you want to try?" Will offers, but quickly suggests, "Or we could shotgun? Since it's your first time, y'know?"
Mike opens his mouth but pauses, face blank of expression but a slight hint of confusion, "What's that exactly?" he asks hesitantly.
"Well basically, it's really easy, I would just," now it's Wills turn to pause, "blow the smoke into your mouth? It helps for your first time."
"Oh uh, okay," Mike says stumbling over his words, "Yeah, we can do that." Will thinks he hears Mike mumbling something like "Totally," but ignores it for his own sanity.
"Are you sure?" Will asks, moving closer to Mike, their knees slightly overlapping now, before Mike nods in approval.
"Okay just stay there," Will suggests while once again putting the joint to his lips, taking a bigger drag than before.
He moves in towards Mike, head slightly tilted to the left as to not bump noses. His dominant hand rests on Mikes lower thigh for stability as he lines up their mouths, almost pressing them together, then slowly exhaling the smoke.
Will can feel his eyelashes slightly making contact with Mikes cheek as he blinks, making his face turn a hot pink sort of shade. He doesn't know if he's imagining the same color spreading across Mike's face or if he's actually blushing.
Once he's sure that he's transferred all the smoke, he leans backwards to give Mike some space, still keeping his hand on Mike's leg.
It's not until Mike exhales and looks down at the hand on his thigh that Will realizes and removes it, tripping over his words trying to form an explanation or apology.
"Will," Mike says in a hushed voice, cutting off Will's rambling, "You're fine, I don't care."
Will nods as Mike picks up the joint from the rock and offers it to him, their fingers brushing one another's before quickly pulling away.
Will puts the joint to his lips again, breathing in the smoke and letting it dip into his lungs before breathing out and offering the burning joint back to Mike.
"Actually Will," Mike starts, "Could we do that again?"
Caught off guard, Will stutters, "Uh yeah, yeah totally," before once again lining himself up with Mike, taking a large hit, and almost closing the gap between them.
This time their lips do touch, only briefly, but it makes both boys stiffen up. Will's hand is on Mike's thigh again, holding him up and leveling his mouth with Mike's mouth before blowing the smoke, but this time Will doesn't immediately leave.
He lingers there, watching Mike's lips, his freckles, his eyes, the structure of his visible jawbone. Will slowly pulls away once more, disappointed that he hadn't spent more time this close to Mike's features.
Mike exhales again, the smoke clouding in front of his face before merging into the dark. The joint lays between Will's right index and middle fingers, his thumb resting beneath the joint for, stability? Mike guesses.
Unable to say what he wants to say, Mike taps Will's hand gently, mirroring Will's fingers slightly above the joint before Will takes the not so subtle hint.
His grip on the joint loosens, allowing Mike to take it and spin it the other way just by flipping his fingers, index moving from atop the joint to below, with the butt end now residing on his ring finger.
Mike slowly raises the joint to his lips, looking at Will for reassurance.
Will nods, "You might want some water though, if you get too much it'll burn your throat."
"Okay," Mike replies as he uncaps the water bottle, preparing it for after he takes the hit in case it's too much for him.
Will watches as Mike brings the joint to his lips, sucking once shortly before taking a longer hit in succession. His cheekbones becoming slightly more defined as he does so.
Thick smoke seeps out of Mikes mouth as he parts his lips slightly to release the joint, handing it to Will in one motion.
Will watches once again, catching the way Mike hesitates on his inhale, and coughs up the remaining smoke after exhaling for a moment.
Within seconds an innocent cough turns into a full on hacking fit, and Will has to help Mike drink from the open water.
Mike's eyes are watering and red, almost tearing up from the intensity of the coughs. Arms wrap around Mike's frame and a comforting hand pats on his back with every cough.
"It's okay, Mike, you're okay," Will says, cringing at the thought that this was probably what he looked like the first time as well.
"I couldn't breathe, Will," Mike says in a panic.
Once Mike has calmed down, Will reassures Mike that he's fine, and that he doesn't have to smoke anymore, but Mike rejects his offer and the two continue to share the joint until it's just a roach.
"Hey, Will?" Mike asks, his voice kind of wavering. Will looks up at him, almost too stoned to even realize who's talking to him before registering the familiar, pretty face of his best friend.
"Do you think I could try blowing the smoke into your mouth?", he says slowly and in a tone so low that Will has to strain in order to hear him, "Just to make sure I can do it," he affirms, but his voice sounds cocky.
Will blushes before replying. "Oh, yeah," a pause, "Just make sure to not inhale the smoke, like, just keep it in your mouth kind of."
And Mike takes that as a sign to light and hit the joint one more time, trying to get the most potent hit for Will possible.
Mike moves in, bending over a bit to be eye level with Will. The wrist and palm of his left hand on the blanket beneath them for stability, his fingers hovering over with the joint still between them, and his right hand cupping Wills face.
Will can feel Mike's thumb gently dragging back and forth on his cheek and hopes Mike can't feel the way that they're radiating heat.
Mike carefully turns Will's face to the side, allowing himself to align their lips without clashing noses. His eyes trained on Will's lips.
Their lips brush again, for a longer period this time, and Mike begins to exhale the smoke from his mouth. He can feel the way Will's mouth contorts around his own, aiming to inhale the most smoke possible.
And then Mike finally pulls away, his pupils blown and eyelids drooping. Will notices the hint of blush along his cheeks and the slightly wild and daring look in his eyes.
Mike's hand lingers on Will's cheek, mindlessly stroking his face, which now feels very warm.
"Will," Mike looks up through his eyelashes, and though barely visible, the whites of his eyes were now a shade of light pink, "Is this okay?"
Tension rests between the boys for a moment, Mike's hand growing increasingly more tense as the silence continues. He debates removing his hand, about to sputter out an apology when Will finally looks up, his eyes previously fixated on their makeshift campsite in the distance.
Dark eyes meet Mike's, equally as bloodshot and hooded as his own. They're soft, Will's eyes, and seem inviting. "Yeah," Will makes out eventually, voice low and gentle. "Definitely okay."
A gentle smile appears on Mike's face, and he moves closer to Will. He can feel the other boys breath against his face, likely making him look as flustered as he felt.
Both boys are aware of the situation that they're in. More specifically of the fact that they shouldn't even be in this situation, but frankly, neither seemed to care in the moment.
"Look at me?" Mike asks, his voice sickly sweet and multiple octaves higher than usual.
And Will does. He brings his gaze up from his lap where his hands lay awkwardly fidgeting with a loose string. They lock eyes, though Mike can feel Wills desire to shift his focus onto something else.
"Would it be okay if," Mike hesitates, breaking the eye contact with Will, "if I." He doesn't know how to progress, how to ask the question he so desperately needs the answer to.
"I want to kiss you, Will," Mike says returning his eyes to Will's, "Do you think that would be okay?"
Will nods feverishly slowly. Mike hums for a second, considering, before continuing, "Will I need you to tell me," he pauses. "Tell me it's okay," Mike begs in a voice that no longer sounds like his own. Pitch dropping rather than increasing this time.
"Mike," Will mirrors his tone, "Please. Please kiss me."
Mike is the one to close the distance per Will's request, though they're already only a couple inches apart.
Their lips connect only briefly before Mike pulls away, searching Wills eyes for any sign of emotion. His pupils are almost as blown as his own, his eyelashes fluttering in genuine surprise. And Mike thinks Will looks beautiful.
Will chases him, connecting their lips once again. Mikes breath is hot and warm. He tastes like smoke and stale beer. His hands find their way to either side of Mike's face, thumbs gently padding at his cheeks.
Mike leans over Will, taking the hand from the ground and discarding the joint before settling his hand on Will's lower back and pulling Mike towards him, deepening the kiss.
Surprised, Will lets out a breathy gasp into the others mouth, driving his right hand off of Mike's face and into the curls that reside around the nape of his neck.
Their mouths clash awkwardly at first, but neither can seem to care, intoxicated by each other's lust and probably the pot they smoked prior to this.
They pull away to breathe, glancing at each other quickly. Mike tugs on Wills shirt to bring him close, their chests almost touching.
One of Mike's hands wander down and under the hem of Will's shirt, just resting flat on the smooth skin of Will's chest.
Their mouths again collide, Mike's tongue licking a deliberate line against Will's bottom lip. Will understands what Mike is hinting at and opens his mouth slightly to make room for Mike's tongue.
Will gasps and begs quietly into Mike's mouth almost immediately, melting under the taller's touch, calling his name and tilting his head back slightly to deepen the kiss. This alone is enough to get Mike to let out a suppressed groan of his own.
"Mike," Will pants between kisses, "Please," their lips connect again, "You don't have to be quiet, it's just me."
Mike purrs in a low tone, pleasantly surprised at the praise and still kissing Will messily. The shorter eventually maneuvering his way closer to Mike and into his lap.
The kissing slows, becoming more sloppier, and the spit around both of their mouth cools in the wind.
Will's hand tangles in Mike's hair, gently tugging occasionally, sometimes eliciting low groans from Mike.
The hand pressed against Will's chest toys around, playfully nipping at his sides and belly. Will is sure he feels Mike smiling into the kiss at this.
Slowly, Mike breaks away from the kiss, returning a second later, though this time at Will's jaw. He plants wet kisses along his throat as Will throws his head back, muffled sounds of pleasure escaping his mouth quietly.
Mike nibbles at Will's neck, gently at first, but quickly picking up pressure and leaving tiny bruises down to Will's shirt collar.
"Mike, they're gonna-" Will manages to get out. Mike shushes him, "I don't care if you don't care," though he does stop biting until Will peppers him with reassurances of not caring.
It feels like hours later, and maybe it is, that Mike pulls away from Will, his hands moving up to cup the boys face.
Their foreheads connect and their eyes lock. Mike's eyes, though still absorbed in lust, have a sense of panic within them.
"Mike," Will says slowly, his voice soft and low, "It's okay, Mike. I promise."
Finally, Mike's eyes shift up, and Will can see them beginning to well with tears. He doesn't say anything, just pulls Mike in and holds him for a while, gently rocking side to side.
Will knows they can't stay there forever let alone the night, so he nudges Mike. "Hey, we should go back," he suggests, and gets a small nod in response.
They both get up, untangling their limbs from each other and picking up their mess.
Will leaves the roach in an indented part of the large rock they're on, covering it with leaves and sticks in case there was rain during the night.
The pair headed in the direction of the camp together, eventually reaching the fire which was now long burnt out.
Will went into the tent first, changing from his jeans into a pair of Jonathan's old sweatpants that were much too big for him, and swapping his tee shirt for something more appropriate to sleep in.
When he was done, he signaled for Mike to come into the tent so he could change as well, being as quiet as he could to account for Max and Lucas sleeping less than 10 feet away from them.
Will stepped outside the tent, initially giving Mike privacy, but without the flashlight or the glow of the fire, he was frightened. To be honest, he wasn't even sure what he was scared of.
Will pounded at the tent wall as the fear and dread set in, silently begging Mike to let him in.
Mike had only a pair of sweatpants on when Will basically collapses into his arms. "Hey, hey," Mike says, "What's going on? Are you okay?"
"Sorry, I just," Will starts, "No. Don't apologize, Will," Mike cuts him off.
They lay there for a moment, Mike on his knees and Will practically draped over him, knees half on top of Mikes.
"Hey let's get to bed," Mike finally says, interrupting the comfortable silence, my sleeping bag is big enough for both of us, okay?"
Will agrees, turning to zip up the tent, grab their pillows, and lie down on the open sleeping bag as Mike rummages around his bag in the dark for a shirt.
Eventually he finds one, throwing it on swiftly and joining Will. He zips them up, setting his blanket over them gently.
"Are we gonna talk about this?" Will asks, not having the courage to look at Mike right now.
"Later," Mike says, "If you're okay with that." He pauses, catching Will looking at him out of the corner of his eye, "I just want to lay here with you, Will. And if I could, I would do it forever."
Mike turns to Will, slowly planting soft kisses around his mouth. Will can feel Mike sucking gently occasionally, hopefully not hard enough to leave any lasting marks on his face.
The kisses trail down. Down to his jaw. His neck. His collar bone. Will groaning softly each time Mikes lips leave his skin. Mike stopped himself at Wills chest, slowly making his way back up.
He planted a few chaste kisses on Wills lips before fully going in, but once again holding back.
Their lips clash, their tongues fighting. Both boys allowing themselves to quietly sigh and whine at each other's touch.
And they fall asleep together like that, kiss chapped lips and arms tangled up. Will's head on Mike's chest listening to his steady breathing.
It's only once he feels Mike's chest fall and rise at a constant pace that he get the courage to whisper into the night. A confession. One he thought would stay bottled up for the rest of his life.