Work Text:
"Alright Byers, truth or dare?"
Dustin's voice carried through the sugar tinted air, nearly maniacal laughter bursting from their mouths. They sat in a sloppy circle, the remnants of various candies and junk food covering the floor.
Face flushed, Will tilted his head up, pondering with a smile as the rest of the party egged him on, throwing pieces of popcorn or sweets towards him in their eagerness to hear his reply.
"You're taking forever," Lucas whined, drawing out the sentence. Max gave him a flick against the head and he recoiled, wincing.
Popping a reeses pieces into his mouth, Will readjusted, legs crossed, hands in his lap. They waited with baited breath, punctured by a giggle or shove here and there.
"Truth," Will said, satisifed grin on his face as they all gave a round of applause, nearly sarcastic in its enthusiasm.
It was Dustin's turn to think, face in hand, much to the group's dismay.
Mike rolled his eyes from his seat beside Will, their knees knocking as he leaned back. Will's breath caught in his throat, and he snuck a glance towards Mike, dark hair wavy, flustered from the contagious air of giddiness.
A resounding clap sliced through the thump of Will's racing heart. "Alright, alright, I've got one," Dustin said, mischievous grin and knowing eyes.
"Who was your first kiss?"
Shrill whistle, various snickers, and Will was blushing, averting the sparkling eyes of his friends. He rubbed the back of his neck with a sheepish smile, gaze flicking up and briefly locking with Mike, who was staring softly at him.
If Will didn't knew any better, he'd say Mike was ever so lovestruck.
Eyes wide, he slowly tore his gaze away from Mike, all pretty freckles and long limbs. He felt more than saw El staring at him, a thoughtful expression on her face, m&ms in her palm.
Shit
A shaky exhale, trying to stamp down his flush, and he said "I've, uh....I've never actually kissed anyone before?"
In his foggy nervousness, he'd phrased it like a question. The words floated in the air, waiting to be clutched, but for a moment, there was silence.
"Wait...really?"
The quiet was broken in a firework-esque bang of color and life. They were a gentle whirl of questions and inquiries, laughter and chaos and chocolate bar wrappers.
Lucas was the first to step up to bat. "But Will," he said, "don't a lot of girls seriously think you're a catch?"
"Yea!" Dustin chimed in. "What about Jennifer Hayes?"
Max raised her hand, leisurely, successfully garnering their attention. "As a girl," she said with the air of someone about to say something indefinitely wise, "a shit ton of girls do think you're cute, Will."
With playfully narrowed eyes, Lucas asked, "Are you one of those girls?"
"Nah, I think I'm stuck with you," Max said, rolling her eyes and giving him a light little push. Mouth quirked to the side, El nodded sagely. "I think I understand why Will is so popular." With an air of finality, she tossed a yellow candy into her mouth, surveying her friends as they nodded, muttering agreement.
"Ok, so, Will is popular, yeah, okay, but why hasn't he kissed anyone, then?" Mike asked, arms crossed with a small huff, mild annoyance that melted off his face like ice cream on a summer day when Will shrugged, blushed furiously pink, a small dab of chocolate on the corner of his lips.
"I guess I just...haven't met the right person yet," he said, hiding the mixture of nerves and anxiety brewing in his gut with an awkward laugh.
To his relief, the party nodded along. "Ah, so you're one of those romantic types," Dustin said. "You wanna wait for the perfect moment. The electricity."
Will blinked, puzzling over "the electricity." "Uh yeah. Something like that."
"Respect," Lucas said, reaching over to offer Will a fistbump. Tentatively, Will reciprocated, the tight hold of fear easing its grip on his lungs.
As would appear to be common with the party, bumbling and messy teenagers that they were, the subject wasn't exhausted any longer, bouncing to the next topic of interest before Will had a chance to take several steady, deep breaths, hands clutched against his reeses.
Lucas was getting relentlessly teased when he came to, unaware of what exactly was occurring, fondness welling up in him all the same.
"Hey," Mike said, softly, only meant for Will's ears. "I just wanted to say...I'm sure they're are plenty of people who'd want to kiss you, you know." He was holding Will's gaze, hands twisting in his lap, and in a blink-and-you'll-miss it moment, his eyes darted down.
The warmth, filling Will's veins like syrup, only glowed and grew. His heart was going a mile a minute, mouth dry and breathless. He bit down the accusations at the back of his mind, ugly thoughts, and smiled. "Yea. Um, thank you, though."
Their eyes met, and Mike's lips were upturned in a goofy, sweet grin, eyes lovely and brown, sharp edges softened in the basement light.
"Wheeler! Byers!" Lucas called, snapping them out of their trance, the thrills of being tangled in each other's presence. "You guys gonna play?" There was a clear pause after his words, an empty space begging to be filled, that suggested he had had more to say. A godly figure (probably El) would have disavowed such an act.
"Yea yea," Mike said, arms crossed and false, maybe a hint of genuine, annoyance flitting across his face. "Let's go."
..........
The stars and moon were hung high in the sky by the time they had settled down, curled in sleeping bags or on couches, pillows astray on the carpet. Heavy, drowsy breathing filled the basement, peaceful and lulling. The atmosphere would have been enough to ease anyone into sleep.
Except for Will, apparently, who was lying awake, staring at the ceiling.
His eyes would begin to flutter shut, lashes brushing against his cheeks, when his mind would restart with a jump, and that moment, that stupid truth or dare from earlier, would be brought back into the spotlight.
"Who was your first kiss?"
He rolled onto his side with a huff. It wasn't that he was ashamed about the whole thing. Whatever. No big deal. It was more like...now that it'd been brought up, part of him couldn't help but wonder, couldn't help but think back to Star Wars and all the other romantic shit he'd encountered over the years, and question what'd it be like to really be kissed.
Who was he kidding. With the rest of the party asleep, the only sliver of light from beneath the Wheeler's basement door, Will desperately wanted to bite the bullet and kiss someone, for fuck's sake.
Not just any someone, a small, messy and starstruck part of his mind offered.
He needed to take a walk.
Another huff, and he was unraveling himself from the tangle of his sleeping bag, tiptoeing over the bodies of his sleeping friends, faces relaxed. Must be nice, he thought, tinged with wary bitterness as he snuck up the stairs, wincing at every squeak in the steps.
The door opened with a painful creak, and warm light from the kitchen flooded Will's vision. He yawned, grabbing a glass, freezing as the telltale groan of the stairs burst through the air.
The basement door slowly opened, revealing Mike, because of course, rubbing his eyes before catching sight of Will. He looked like he'd seen a ghost.
"Couldn't sleep?" Mike asked in a loud whisper, disturbing the early morning quiet of the house, so bone-shaking still, to the point it felt like they were the only two alive in the whole world.
The question took a while to register in Will's sleep-craved brain. "Uh, yea. You too?"
Mike nodded, walking to lean against the counter beside Will. He snuck quick lived glances at Mike from beneath his lashes. There was something about him now, freshly rolled out of bed, hair a mess, eyelids occasionally falling closed, clothes askew, that drew Will in. He looked like he hadn't slept a wink in days. It was very endearing.
Will downed half his water in one go, ignoring the eyes ghosting over his features, his neck, as he drank. He also ignored how flustered Mike was, flush subdued in the kitchen light.
"You wanna come upstairs?" Mike asked, completely out of nowhere, and Will about choked and died right then and there.
It wasn't that going upstairs, to Mike's room, was peculiar, he thought, though the heavy sound of his heart beating against his ribcage suggested otherwise. A while ago, when the nightmares were...worse, he'd sometimes end up there at sleepovers, escorted by Mike, an arm wrapped around his shoulder. He'd drag his sleeping bag up the stairs, give Will the bed, comfort him, and that was that.
Arguably, the circumstances in this particular instance were quite different. Mostly because the first thing his mind jumped to was the kissing conversation and the way Mike was looking at him during the kissing conversation and hey, maybe Mike wouldn't mind being his first kiss, which would not ever actually happen so he really needed to drop that, thank you.
Every rational part of him desperately begged him to say "Nah, I'm good, I've walked off the existential crisis, I should be alright, I'm gonna head to bed! Night!"
"Yea, sure. Why not."
What the fuck.
In fairness, the grin Mike shot him, suddenly glowing with life like he hadn't been dead tired three seconds ago, was worth it. Probably.
Will couldn't exactly stay annoyed, not when they were scrambling up the stairs, murmuring laughs and tripping over each others feet, the guilt from being oh-so loud nearly nonexistent.
They paused outside Mike's bedroom, hearts beating in tandem, and Mike opened the door with a grand flourish, coaxing a giggle from Will.
Will briefly wondered if this was what being high felt like.
Mike fell onto the bed, arms spread over his head, gesturing for Will to join him. With a final sigh, drunk, lightheaded grin hurting his head, he collapsed next to Mike, swallowing the bubbles of laughter that were sure to follow.
"So," Mike began, propping himself up, looking down at Will, a sight that had him parched, heart in a twist, and he remembered why this had been a bad idea.
"Why couldn't you sleep, Byers?"
Will wanted to kick himself.
Here Mike was, hovering over him, lit by the moonlight filtering through the window, lips pink and kissable, although he didn't really know what qualified as kissable. But, he certainly wanted to kiss Mike, tangle his fingers in dark strands of hair, press feather-light kisses against his cheeks and his neck-
"Will?"
"Oh, sorry," Will said, chuckling nervously. Mike offered a crooked smile in return, face wildly red, and it hit Will, with terrifying intensity, that Mike was looking at him like he'd hung the stars in the sky, like he made the sun rise and set every day.
"I guess I was just thinking, you know?" Mike nodded, gaze far away in its affection.
"Thinking about truth or dare?" Will short-circuited. Mouth agape, he tried to scramble together something, but his brain was mush, a steady stream of kissing and Mike and not much else.
"Uh...yep, that's it, actually." The proud glimmer in Mike's eyes, in his smile, happy that he'd guessed first try, made Will want to be something stupid. Like kiss the grin off his lips.
Maybe I should've stayed in the upside down, he thought, delirious.
The silence was so loud. Downstairs, past two flights of stairs was the comforting, drowsy and homely, hollow, where the quiet was relished, easy to borrow into.
That couldn't be further from the case in the sweltering atmosphere of Mike's room. Will was painfully aware of Mike's every move, each flicker of his gaze, lick of his lips. He felt like he was burning from the inside out, for someone had lit a fire in his gut, letting it consume him in a blind rage.
Mike cleared his throat, stumbling over his words. "So..." he paused. Will was barely breathing, anticipation sparking at the back of his mind.
"So, I was thinking, since you've never kissed anyone before, and, I mean, I have a few times, you know? So I kinda know how it works, I guess? No that's its hard, but...I thought if you wanted to learn without any consequences, cause it'd just be us, and that way you could get it over with...we could try it out?"
"Only if you want to, though."
Deep down, Will was screaming at himself, fierce shrieks, trying to awaken the rational side of his mind, the part that operated on logic.
Even then, he knew it was hopeless. He noticed, painstakingly, their knees touching, both already sitting, eager, on the bed. The answer was heavy on his tongue. "Sure. Why not."
God, Mike had him reduced to a broken record.
"Ok," Mike said, and they were infuriatingly close as Mike cupped Will's cheek, thumb brushing across his cheekbone. He sighed through his nose, not daring to part his lips, melting into the touch.
His free hand gripped Will's hip, reassuring, long fingers softly tapping. "You kinda lean in," he muttered, voice low as there noses brushed, eyes lidded "at an angle."
Warm breath, chocolate smelling, ghosted over Will's lips. This should be grosser than it is; a singular concrete thought, the rest of his being completely encompassed by Mike's faintly shaking hands.
"And then," Mike must have heard Will's heart pounding as he breathed in and out, whiffs of chocolate and honey and the Wheeler's house filling his mind, a foggy haze better than any drug (probably not better than any drug, but shit).
Of course Mike Wheeler smells fantastic too.
Will glanced up through his lashes, pretending he wasn't terribly impatient, hands itching to roam.
And Mike was inhaling unsteadily, the hold on Will's hip turned rough, eyes desperate, drinking him in with a passion. Will shivered.
"Then," Mike whispered, "you go for it."
Their lips touched and Will thought he knew what it felt like to burst with warmth, eating him up inside.
He was oh-so wrong.
Mike's lips were chapped, rough, and the kiss was chaste, each brush of contact sending Will's hair on end. His hands pressed into Mike's chest, curling the fabric of his shirt. Mind a blissful void, absent of any consequence that might come from this, and Mike deepened the kiss, a delighted shudder rushing through him.
It was comforting and sweet, wrapped pastels and taffy, until Mike ran his tongue along Will's bottom lip.
Lips parted, Mike surged forward, and Will's back fell against the bed, giddy gasp barely escaping as Mike lowered himself over top of him. Will's hands found Mike's hair, tugging gently as their tongues brushed. The sound Mike made, a shivering groan that rushed through his body, made Will simply melt, an eagerness to hear it again sweeping across his mind.
The kiss was years of yearning and pining in a singular moment, a press of lips, and Will's mind was alight, glowing in some sort of epiphany.
Things would never be the same after this.
Will would never, in any reality, be able to look Mike dead in the eyes again, not when he'd once had his hands in Mike's hair, when their tongues had met, when their bodies had collided with searing tenderness, their hearts racing in sync as the rest of the world spun on without them.
This was all another part of the divine comedy that was Will's life. Not only was he helplessly pining after his best friend, but his best friend was kissing him, and it was all saccharine, a swooping-stomach sensation, so undeniably right and he wouldn't experince it ever again.
And yet, Mike pulled away, hair disheveled, blushed pink, breathing heavily, lips swollen, a swell of pride as Will realized he did that, and the way he was gazing at Will...
Tenderly would be an understatement. Mike was looking at Will like he was the most beatiful thing to have ever graced his vision, like the stars and galaxies paled in comparison. The affection ran so deep, and Will didn't want to call it love, because he knew, God, he knew, it wasn't love, but he couldn't think of anything else that would flow through Mike's veins like this. He was glowing with it.
Something sorrowful and pretty was growing in Will's gut, growing up and up into his throat, snatching the air from his lungs with a sob, and Will's heart was breaking. Fragments flew into his organs. It hurt to breath.
Mike's hand was still cradling his face, and Will wondered what'd he'd do if tears began to fall.
"Hey," Mike whispered, filling the small space between them. "Are you okay?"
Will nodded, frantically shooing everything away, trying to clear out his mind, return it to bliss and empty.
"We can stop, Will, I-" The words died, faded against Will's lips, urgently pressing on, and this would work, for now. As soon as they parted, Will would wish and plead to be dragged into oblivion, but this was his one and only chance. The thought unleashed something desperate in him, frenzied, holding Mike tightly, praying he wouldn't slip from his grasp.
He held back tears, internally chuckling himself to pieces, and never letting go of Mike, eager and wanting above him.
Will wondered where he went so wrong.