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“You’re crazy! You’re- you’re insane , Will!” It’s raining. It’s pouring rain and they’re standing in the street, shouting at each other. Neither of them know how it started. Maybe the floodgates that protected their broken hearts finally burst open. Maybe it was supposed to happen. Maybe it was inevitable. Mike’s hair is plastered to his forehead from the rain. His hands are everywhere, gesturing so violently that Will takes a step back, fists shaking by his sides. “What is this even about?”
Will laughs. The sound reverberates throughout his mind, empty and hollow. He looks at Mike and shakes his head. He doesn’t even know what to say.
The rain is almost deafeningly loud, the noise pounding in their ears. Thunder claps in the distance, an angry sound. “ God , Mike. This? This is about you. This is about you, okay? This is about you and it’s about me and it’s about everything . After last year– After Vecna and California and our whole world just falling apart in front of our eyes? I thought that we –Will and Mike–could go back to normal. I thought things might be okay again, but they’re not .”
He’s crying, but it doesn’t matter because he can blame it on the rain. The rain that is pouring down their faces, screwing with their vision. The angry sheets of rain that are being thrown down by someone vengeful from above. Mike sighs, pushing his soaked hair out of his eyes. “Will–”
“No ! No.” Will’s chest is heaving. It’s hard to breathe. “I’m not done, Mike.”
They stare at each other, fires blazing inside their empty, empty minds.
“Whatever.” Mike mutters it, angry and bored. He wants this to be over. He doesn’t want to fight. He doesn’t have enough words to finish this one. He doesn’t understand.
“I don’t think I can keep doing this anymore.” Will’s voice is quiet. The words are tumbling out of him faster than he can think. Mike can barely make them out over the rain. “I can’t see you– I can’t. I can’t see you with her anymore.” He doesn’t mean for him to hear it, but he says it louder than he intends. Maybe the selfish part of his mind wanted to see what would happen.
“What? With who?” Will doesn’t say anything. Mike steps towards him, eyes wild. “With who? El?”
Will is silent.
“Jesus ! Will, she’s my girlfriend! We’ve talked about this! What is it this time? Did I not write you enough letters? Do we not hang out enough? Is that what this is about? We don’t hang out enough and you’re being pissy. We’re growing up, Will. I love her, okay?” It sounds fake. Like he’s trying to convince himself more than Will. He loves her. He loves her. He loves her.
“Yeah, I know that, Mike. We all know that!”
The rain is blazing a trail down both of their faces. Or maybe it’s tears. Neither of them know.
Mike blinks, mouth curling into something angry. “What is wrong with you? You’re the one who told me all that stuff about her being different. Remember that? In the car? I make her feel special! She’s lost without me. She needs me!”
The tears are hot. Burning hot against Will’s cheeks. The rain is freezing. “Fuck. Fuck .” He can’t breathe. “You’re so- you’re so fucking stupid , Mike!”
And they both go silent, like Will’s words carved out their tongues with the dull edge of a rusty blade. The rain threatens to consume them both, swallow them whole like a whale swallowing a broken ship, choking on the splinters. Will doesn’t swear. He would never. Joyce hated it when Jonathan would, it reminded her too much of Lonnie, so Will silently promised never to do it.
“What?” Mike’s throat is tight. It hurts to swallow.
Will is sobbing now, choking on it. He feels so angry, so sad. He can’t blame it on the rain. The rain isn’t this bitter. The rain doesn’t burn like tears do. The rain feels sorry for him, offering to cover up his pain. But Will is sure that nothing can mask it anymore. “That was never about El, Mike.”
“What?” Mike says it again. Everything crumbles.
“What I said in the car. It wasn’t about El.” Will isn’t a pretty crier. His eyes screw up and his mouth is a theatre mask. He can’t fucking breathe. “Oh god.” he moans, covering his face with his hands.
“What?” Mike is a broken record, cracked and chipping, needle skipping. “Will, what are you saying?”
Will almost laughs, but he’s scared that if he does, he’ll never stop. “Don’t you get it, Mike? Don’t you get it?” He drops his voice to a whisper. “It was about me.”
Mike blinks. His mouth snaps shut. The rain continues to pour. It pours and it pours and it pours. The sky is black and everything is freezing. It feels like ice against their faces. Indiana winters are relentless. Will wishes he was in California. He wishes he was someone else. He wishes he was in a different body, an entirely new person. He wants to start over, he wants to be done .
But Will’s mouth has to finish what it started. His mind is speeding ahead, spilling, spilling, spilling. The threads are unraveling and he can’t catch them in time. “I’m in love with you, Mike.”
And the world doesn’t burst into flames. It doesn’t end. The rain continues to pour and everything keeps spinning. Mike’s face goes blank and all he manages is a shaky, “Oh.”
“I needed you. I was lost without you. I’m different from other people. I feel like–” Will chokes on a broken sob. It shakes through his body and he shudders. “I feel like a mistake.”
“Will–”
He can’t stop. It’s all pouring out of him. He wants to rip it all off, pull it away. The guilt needs to be gone, the shame . It’s clawing at his skin, tearing him open.
“Two years ago I destroyed Castle Byers. I told you it was the storm, but it was me. It was raining just like this and I couldn’t see and I wanted to die, Mike! I wanted to curl up into a ball and disappear forever. All I could hear was your voice inside my head. You were so mean just because I knew that I was being left behind. But you know what, Mike? You were right, it’s not your fault I don’t like girls.” He spits the words out and they’re so bitter. They taste like dirt on Will’s tongue. “It’s your fault that I like you ! I mean. Despite everything? Despite us fighting and you forgetting about me–because you did –I’m still in love with you! Isn’t that pathetic?”
“Will–”
“I want to hate you, but I don’t and I don’t think I ever can. I’m so in love with you that I can’t do it. You know, when you came to California last year, I was so–” Will shakes his head and laughs hollowly. “I was so excited, Mike. I was so excited for you to come. I wanted to show you everything. I made that stupid painting for you and I was going to give it to you at the airport, but I realized that you didn’t want to see me at all. And you know what else? I still didn’t fucking hate you! How unfair is that?”
“Will .” Mike’s face is crumpled up, sad and soaked with rain. He feels so bad, so awful. He thinks he might be sick with it. Sick with grief for the boy standing in front of him. For the things he knows that he did and the things he knows he ignored. “Will, please, stop it–”
“No.” Will stares Mike in the eyes, stepping into his space. They’re so close. He can see Mike’s breath fogging out past his lips. The freckles on his nose are too innocent for his face. “What happened to us, Mike? You fell in love with someone else? Is that it? That’s all it took for you to forget me? We were best friends . We were– we were special, weren’t we? You’re special. You’re everything. God, Mike, wasn’t it obvious? What did you see? Are you that blind?”
He waves his hand in Mike’s face, lips pulled back into something mean. Something angry. “What do you see, Mike? Huh? Do you see me? Do you fucking see me?”
Mike grabs his wrist, twisting his arm away. “Stop it! Stop it, Will.”
“Don’t touch me!” Will yanks his arm out of his grip, holding it against his chest like he’s been burned. It hurts. He hates him. He doesn’t. “Don’t ever touch me.”
He’s crying so hard he can barely see. He can barely breathe. The lump in his throat hurts, hurts, hurts to swallow. Mike is crying too, scrubbing at his eyes, chest heaving. “I’m sorry . God, I’m sorry I didn’t know. I’m sorry, Will. I’m so sorry.”
“You’re not. You’re not sorry. Stop saying that.”
“I am. I’m sorry!” He is. He’s sorry, sorry, sorry.
“You’re such a liar.”
Mike bristles at that, staring angrily at the ground. “I’m not! I don’t. Friends don’t– friends don’t lie.”
Will looks at him, almost to see if Mike’s being serious. He is. Will wants to laugh. “Fuck you. I’m not El, Mike. You don’t have to say that to me. I know it’s not true and you just say that because it makes you feel better about yourself! I’m not El.” He has to say it again, just so Mike knows.
He wants Mike to cry harder. He wants Mike to run into the woods and bash his childhood to death with a baseball bat. Will wants to fight him. He wants to punch his lip bloody and kiss him afterwards, savoring the taste of Mike Wheeler’s blood. Does that make him sick? Disgusting? He wants to kick him, beat him up, hurt him. He wants him to hit back. He wants it to hurt. He wants to bleed. He wants to kiss Mike, touch him, be him. Will wants him.
He can’t have him. He knows that. He settles for the next best thing.
He surges forward and punches Mike in the stomach. It hurts his fist. He stares at his hand and he stares at Mike’s face as he stumbles back, tripping over the curb. His palms hit the concrete with a sickening smack and his knees scrape against the street. “What the fuck? What the fuck , Will.”
“Hit me.” He needs it.
He wants to fight him. He needs him to hate him, to hit him. He wants his knuckles to be bloody, he wants his face to bruise. He wants to see Mike, poised over him, taking time to choose his spot. Taking time to stare at him and choose where he thinks it will hurt the most. Taking time to look at him. Will needs Mike to look at him.
“What?” Mike’s palms are bloody when he pushes himself up from the pavement. He winces, clutching his stomach. Will’s never hit anyone before. It stings more than he thought it would. He wishes he hit him in the face. Maybe then, he would have been satisfied.
Mike’s mind is spinning. His stomach aches. He doesn’t know who is standing in front of him. He’s a stranger. Mike’s never seen him before. This isn’t Will Byers. This isn’t the sweet boy with the nice smile that he knows. This is someone else entirely and Mike is scared.
“Hit me back.”
“No,” Mike walks towards him, wiping his bloody palms on his jeans. “I’m not hitting you.”
“Hit me,” Will needs him to hit him. He needs him to hurt him so he can finally have an excuse to stop loving him. He needs it to hurt. He wants Mike to destroy him entirely. “Hit me, Mike.”
“I’m not hitting you.” He walks towards Will who’s shivering. He can see him again. The same boy he knew when he was twelve. He’s just hidden. Hidden behind a wall of something cruel. Mike says it again, firmer this time, “I’m not hitting you.”
“Hit me!” Will screams it in his face. He’s sobbing and the sky is pitch and the rain is still relentless. No longer kind, no longer offering protection. “Hit me. Hit me. Hit me.”
Mike reaches Will and grips his arms, staring into his face. His eyes are scared. His pupils are wide and black with fear. When Will doesn’t protest, Mike pulls him closer, wrapping his arms around his freezing body. His skin is like ice. “Jesus, Will.”
“Please. Please, please, please .” Will begs into the collar of Mike’s shirt, nose pressed into his neck. He can smell Mike. He smells like rain and sweat and something bitter. The ocean maybe. Tears. “Please.”
He’s so broken.
Mike pets his hands down Will’s back, smoothing out his shirt and holding him tighter against his body. He crumbles in his arms, everything tearing out of him all at once. “Shh,” Mike is soft. He’s never been soft. He’s all sharp lines and corners. Angry and bored, taking the lead. Never kind. Never like this.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Will tries to pull away, but Mike’s fingers have his shirt gripped tight between them. He doesn’t let him go. He’s scared that if he does, Will will disappear. He’ll fade away and never come back. “I hurt you, Mike. Let me go.” His voice is a whisper, cracked around the edges.
“No, no way.” Mike’s breath is hot against Will’s forehead. One of his hands finds its way to the back of Will’s neck, cradling him gently. The sky is falling apart above their heads. The rain touches their faces and whispers to them. It knows they’ll be okay. Or at least it can hope.
Will silently relishes the feeling of Mike. It feels like something he can’t have. Something he won’t be able to keep. Boys like him, they don’t get nice things. He wants to keep touching him, never let him go, but of course things must always end. Especially good things.
“Let me go, Mike. Please.”
He’s gentle. Pulling his arms away, keeping a hand touching Will, making sure he doesn’t run off. Mike’s still crying, mind reeling. He wants to say everything and nothing at the same time. He has so much, but it dies just past his tongue. “Will–”
“Are your hands okay? Your stomach? I didn’t mean it, I just- I’m sorry.” Will grabs at Mike’s hands, staring down at the scrapes. They aren’t bad. Not compared to everything else they’ve ever had to endure, but in Will’s eyes they look like cuts from a knife. A jagged knife he wielded and used to slice his hands open.
“I'm fine. Will–”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Mike. I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Will–”
“I didn’t mean it. Any of it. I wasn’t thinking. Don’t even take any of that seriously because I’m not serious. I wasn’t serious–”
“Will!” Mike’s hands fly to Will’s wrists, gripping them. He’s looking at him so intensely, it’s like he can see into his soul. Will wonders what he sees. “Will, stop.”
“Okay.” It’s a whisper again.
Mike’s head is flipping pages. Turning rusted gears. He remembers everything so vividly now. The day Will went missing. The panic. The pain. The hurt. The day they found his body in the lake, dead and cold. The literal hellfire that is Hawkins Middle school. Will. Summer. The mind flayer. Will barely remembering who Mike was. The hospital. Will. Starcourt mall. Horror movies. The Russians. The Upside Down. Billy Hargrove’s screaming face. Will. Hopper dying. His funeral. The Byers moving to California. Hugging them all goodbye. Saying goodbye to Will. His face. The tears. Hellfire Club. Eddie. Death. The earthquake. Vecna. Will.
Will. Will. Will. How did he never figure it out? Was Will right? Was he really blind? It was always Will.
He needs Will and Will needs him and it’s them against the world and Mike is so stupid. Will is in love with him and he never figured it out. His life didn’t start the day they found El. That day was when his life felt like it was going to end. Mike stumbles slightly, destroyed. Will. Will. Will. Will.
Fuck. It was right there. It was always right there, but he didn’t know. He never looked two feet in front of him. If he did, he would have seen him. Will.
And suddenly there’s guilt. Guilt that climbs up his throat, sticky and bitter. He wants to throw up. And he feels terrible because Will is right there, looking at him like a deer in headlights. He’s still right there, like he’s always been. He looks terrified and Mike doesn’t know what to do. His whole life is being stripped away and all he can see is Will. The first time they met when they were kids. Their first DnD campaign. The first day of second grade. Everything.
“Oh shit.” Mike swallows. “Oh shit.” He hugs Will again, hands flying up to grab at him, hold him, twist themselves in his soaked t-shirt.
Will collapses onto him, folding in on himself. He feels Mike’s heart beating against his cheek. It pounds out a steady beat. Thump. Thump. Thump.
“You’re right, Will. I am really fucking stupid.”
“No you’re not, Mike. I am–”
“Will. I know I am. I mean- I mean look at you.” Mike pulls back, holding Will at arms-length. “Look at you. I’m so stupid. You’re everything. Oh god, Will. You’re everything.”
Mike holds Will’s face in his hands, staring down at him. He had no idea he was so much taller. They used to check when they were kids and there was one year where Will was the tallest, but Mike hit his growth spurt early and he shot up like a string bean. Mike kind of thought Will might have caught up by now. He guesses he didn’t really notice.
Will’s eyes are kind of brown, kind of green, kind of blue. Mike’s never seen them like this. He’s never really looked. He doesn’t even think he knew what color they were until now. He’s so stupid.
“You’re in love with me.” Mike whispers it, realizing. “You’re in love with me.”
“I’m sorry.” Will says. “I’m–”
“If you say that again, I’m leaving you alone in the rain.” Will falls silent. Mike swallows hard, thinking of what he wants to say next. “Are you–” He breathes out softly through his nose. “Are you gay?” Mike flinches as the word leaves his lips. It reminds him of middle school. Of his dad, using it as an insult.
“I don’t know.” Will sniffs, wiping his nose with the back of his hands. “I think so. Maybe.”
“So, any guy in the world and you chose me?” It comes out harsh, almost angry.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, Mike.” Will’s eyes fill with tears and he blinks them away, a frustrated noise escaping from his lips. He steps away from Mike, wrapping his arms around himself.
“No, no, shit–” Mike’s hands are back to gesturing again. He can’t help it. “Not like that. Not like that, Will. I just meant- I just meant why me? I didn’t even know and you’re right, we’re best friends! I hope we’re still best friends. I should have known.”
“I don’t know. Why you?” Will doesn’t say anything else. He doesn’t step any closer. “I don’t know.” He’s thinking so loud that Mike can almost hear his mind whirring. “You said that I’m… everything. What does that mean to you? Were you just repeating what I said?”
Mike runs his tongue over his teeth, huffing out a breath. “No. I don’t know. I don’t think so. You are everything, Will.”
“You can’t say that.”
“Why not?”
“You don’t even know what that means.”
“Of course I do.”
“Yeah? Okay, what. What does it mean?”
“It means- It means that- It means that I need you, Will! It means that I trust you and that I would fucking jump off a cliff for you! You’re my best friend and I need you. I was so stupid before, but I know now. I know that it was you, Will. It was always you.”
Always you. Always you. Always you. “How do you know ?” Will’s voice is choked up. He’s still so far away. “I’ve known forever. How do you know that it’s me? How do you know you need me?”
Mike walks towards him, staring into his face. Into his eyes. His blue-green-brown eyes.
Will is rooted to the ground, heart pounding. He wants this. He wants this so bad, but he needs to know that Mike is sure. He needs to know that he’s serious. He needs to know . He doesn’t know Mike anymore. He needs to know who he is and what he wants and who Will is to him because he’s Mike and he’s perfect. He’s Mike and he’s everything and Will’s whole world revolves around him and he hates him and he loves him and Mike is the sun and every single planet stuck floating in space.
“I know because my whole life–my whole life– you’ve always been there. When we were kids. Especially when we were kids, you were always this constant thing in my life. Five years ago, when you went missing… I don’t know what happened to me. Suddenly you weren’t there anymore.” Mike reaches Will and he stands facing him, staring. “Suddenly we weren’t Will and Mike. I was Mike and you were missing . They found your fucking body in the lake and I was- we were kids. We were kids and you were dead. You were dead . And then everything fell apart and you were pushed back into my life, but it wasn’t the same. And then you came back and I thought things would be okay, you know? But you were possessed and it wasn’t the same .” Mike reaches out and touches the side of Will’s face.
He keeps going, plowing through. He needs Will to understand. He needs himself to understand. “We went to the Snowball and we both danced with girls. I kissed a girl. You- you wouldn’t stop looking at me, but I wasn’t thinking. I wasn’t thinking about you. God, why wasn’t I thinking about you? Did you know Nancy danced with Dustin because he was lonely? I wasn’t thinking about anyone. You said I’m the heart, but I’m not Will. You are. You’re the goddamn heart because you’re so fucking strong! And you care about us. You care about all of us.
“I mean, I wasn’t thinking. I never was. I should have seen you. I forgot about you. I needed you and I didn’t even know you existed. You destroyed Castle Byers because of me. Fuck, Will, I’m so sorry. I thought I could do everything without you, but I can’t. I thought I could lead. I thought I was the strong one, but I’m not. I need you. I can’t forget you again, Will. I can’t do anything without you because without you I’m just blind. I’m blind and I’m stupid and I’m mean. I need you, Will. I need you.
“I didn’t know then, but I know now. I know you. Or at least I hope I do.”
He kisses Will then because he’s never been very good at timing. But he needs this. He knows it for sure this time.
Will scrambles to pull his arms out from in between their bodies. His first kiss. His first kiss is with Mike Wheeler in the rain and he’s freezing and he doesn’t know where to put his hands, but he hooks them around Mike’s neck, dragging him closer because he doesn’t want this to ever end.
Mike’s lips are chapped and his nose pushes into Will’s so hard that Will thinks he wants to break it. His hands settle on Will’s cheeks, stroking back the hair that sits flat against his face from the rain. Their teeth click together and Will can feel how desperate Mike is. How desperate he must look, must feel. Their lips slide together, wet with rain and their combined desperation. They both need this more than the other can see. They need each other to breathe. To stay alive. Mike is breathing in Will like he is oxygen. Like he’s everything he needs to live. Everything he needs to survive. He thinks he could live off Will Byers for the rest of his life.
Will is crying again. He isn’t sure if he’ll ever stop. He tastes his tears against Mike’s lips, but he can’t pull away. He doesn’t want to pull away. Mike Wheeler is his fucking lifeline. If he pulls away, he might die . He doesn’t want to die. Not now. Not now that he knows what he has.
It feels like the end of a movie. But it’s unlike any movie Will has ever seen. Unlike every simple, the boy gets the girl. It’s more than that. It’s pining and it’s hurt and it’s interdimensional space monsters and Russian spies. It’s the beginning of their lives. The beginning of the end. The beginning of everything.
“Oh.” Will whispers when Mike pulls away, hands still holding his face, staring at him so intensely, he feels like he might fall apart.
“Yeah,” Mike’s voice is soft as he breathes in slowly through his nose. He reaches up to tangle a hand in Will’s hair. The hair that has looked the exact same ever since he was five. Mike laughs a little breathlessly. “Could we have been doing that for forever?”
“I think so.” Will feels giddy, over the moon with a new kind of feeling. A feeling kind of like happiness. But more like satisfaction. More like knowing that he gets to be happy. He gets to be happy in the end. "But I'm glad we get to do it now." He thinks he’s wanted this his whole life. He’s probably right. Twelve year old Will Byers is probably jumping up and down just knowing that he finally gets to have Mike Wheeler. Knowing that it isn’t all hopeless and that they both make it out alive.
Together.