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Will is excited.
Getting out of any stuffy airport is always a little exciting, but that’s besides the point. Will is excited because he’s about to see his family, friends, and, most importantly, his boyfriend again after an entire year of long-distance letters and phone calls. There’s also something cathartic about touching down in the plane and not immediately worrying that something awful is going to happen to his hometown. He’s so relieved. His “Upside Down” sense has faithfully disappeared for a while now, being out of town for college and with Vecna fully gone, and so the only chills he has to prepare himself for are the typical chills of winter.
He does have a feeling that something good is going to happen this return to Hawkins, though. He’s not sure what - besides his normal nervous system, he’s never had a “right-side-up” sense, after all - but he knows he feels good.
In turn, he finds himself bouncing on his toes, donned in winter coat and boots, waiting for his dad to pick him up. Mike could have gotten him from the airport since he just got his license, but his dad insisted on getting him. Will can’t complain, he’s going to see Mike tomorrow. Plus, a certain nostalgic joy washes over him when sees the lime green Pinto pull up out by the curb.
Will greets Hop at the driver’s side and receives a strong hug, then they embark.
“How ya doing, bud?”
Will takes a deep breath in the familiar car, no shortage of stray cigarettes permeating the space. Will has never loved the smell, but he wouldn’t trade it for anything else. It’s safe to say that he’s happy. “Glad to be home.”
“Good.” Hop smiles at him briefly before turning back to the road. “El’s been dying to ask you about school.”
“I write to you guys, like, every month.”
He shakes his head, a bit fond, a bit of something else. “Yeah, but she’s a little jealous, you know.”
Embarrassed, Will looks to his right, out the window. It’s not that he wants to write to El less or anything, it’s just that often, all his time is lost in biweekly affairs of their own. Letters of their own, to Mike. At one point, he’d memorized Mike’s dorm address over his own house address and accidentally sent letters meant for his family over to Mike. In every phone call following a missend, Mike always reminded him of the mistake and joked that the postal fee was so expensive to send to Hawkins. Mike would annoyingly demand a payment fee but, jokingly, never expect a single actual payment fee. Mike spoiled him like that, all the time.
The mailing costs aren’t outlandishly high, though, so maybe Will is exaggerating to say that Mike’s spoiling him. But still, he considers the gesture as such. After all, even beyond the little things, Mike is always spoiling him. He even dared to pay for this flight back to Indiana behind his back. Will wonders if he’ll ever get fed up with it, but he hasn’t yet after two years, so he isn’t confident that Mike will ever stop.
Oh, Mike. He came back for the winter, too, yesterday. Will clenches his hands excitedly at the thought of seeing him soon.
Will leans against the window, slightly, peering out at the beautiful, reconstructed Hawkins.
“Looks good, right?”
“Yeah. It really does.”
He’s almost breathless, and he can’t help but be fascinated by the scenery - the reforestation he sees from only the outskirts of town is stunning. The crisp, post-snowfall trees that roll by look like a blend of crystal and emerald and umber, full of life. Fuller of life than when he saw the forest last year, if he dare say. And the road is no longer split in two, assumingly provisional gold lines down the middle of the concrete, a little off-center but hopeful.
“You can thank Jonathan for the double solids.”
Will turns to him curiously. “What?”
“He took last Summer off to come back and work for good ol’ Indiana state. These lines are all his,” Hop says proudly.
Will snickers. “They’re kinda crooked.”
“Oh, you better not tell him that.”
“I will.”
Hop laughs aloud, Will follows.
“He’s probably gonna hope you didn’t notice at all, but I guess I ruined it since I told you.”
“It’s fine,” Will says sincerely. “The lines… they’re really not that bad. Especially for this long of a road.”
“Yeah. ‘S not so bad.” He nods. “But, uh, hey, tell me about your last week before break! Did you do anything special?”
As he replies, Will plays with the ends of the sleeves of his coat, excited to see all of his family again. If he didn’t know better, his dad looks a little more excited than usual to get back, too. But Will brushes it off like the flurry of snow that begins to fall once they arrive.
El calls to him, wraps him in a bear hug, and, much to his surprise, lifts him and spins him about one-eighty before nearly dropping them both on the porch.
“El! Oh my god.”
She lets him go with a laugh. “Hi.”
“I take it you’re doing good.”
She nods, glowing happily in the sunset behind clouds. Maybe it’s just the mixture of light, but she looks older after a year. Her hair is at her ears, curly and bouncy - a little like Mike’s. Will smiles. She looks excited.
“Yes, I’m very good. And I want to see what you made.”
Will shakes his head. “Tomorrow, okay? I’ll unpack tomorrow.”
A little annoyed - and Will can’t blame her, it’s been so long since they’ve done any art together - she sighs, “fine.”
The door opens and his mom gasps. “Will!”
She and Jonathan greet him warmly, too, quite literally. The cold of winter is nothing he’s not used to, but the closeness and warmness of his somewhat very clingy family are always comforting. He can’t blame them, though. He’s never been gone for so long.
“How was the flight?”
“Are you hungry?”
“It was fine. And yeah, I think I’m pretty hungry.”
“Good,” his mom says, “because we have way too much food.”
After Jonathan and Hop help take his suitcases, they all stumble into the house to share a half-burnt but fully-made-with-love reunion dinner along with dessert, and all of them share the exciting changes over the year and plans for the winter break. Namely, the dinner tomorrow, which Will can’t wait for. He’s tempted to call Mike right now or perhaps meet him somewhere secret that they used to go to - but he relents to the biting winter. Late that night, Will retires happily in his room, excited to see his boyfriend and all of his friends together the next day.
~~~
“What is that?”
Will traces the path of El’s pointing hand. “This?”
She nods.
Will holds the object in his hand fondly. “It’s a Polaroid.”
“A… Polaroid?”
“Yeah. It’s just the brand name. Jonathan never let you see it before sending it to me, huh?”
El shakes her head. “He never tells me things.”
Will chuckles. “Well, this is a camera,” he explains. “It’s a lot simpler than his, but I think it’s pretty cool.” He lets El curiously take its frame and strap out of his hands. She infers well how to hold it, having held Jonathan’s camera. “You can take pictures, and they print out instantly.”
She smiles. “Can I?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Come here.”
Will laughs as El partially headlocks him and hugs him, holding up the camera and snapping a photo. El laughs as Will scolds her for shaking the plastic, but thankfully, the image shows up. It’s a little lopsided, but they’re both framed, so it’s perfect for him. Will is impressed she caught them so nicely.
Excitedly, Will lets El go off around the house and take more photos on her own.
“Hey, how’d you sleep?”
Will shrugs. “Fine. The time difference isn’t so bad.”
Jonathan nods, relieved by the answer. If there’s one thing in life that Will has learned over and over again, it’s to love fully and wholeheartedly, and Jonathan has been no short example of that. Will still remembers the day he came out to him after the mess that was two years ago and crying in his arms. It all had a beautiful turnout, though, once Mike revealed his heart to him not too long after and admitted he’d been struggling with the same unsaid thoughts, there on the old pair of swings, the ones from kindergarten that they randomly decided to sneak away to that night, that late summer night before they parted. The night was warm, but Will had never felt so cold - his hands curled to the metal, shocked to the core.
It was beautiful, but it also was horrendous, honestly. A lot more horrendous than it sounds. That week having to deal with the after effects of Vecna and a multitude of feelings was not kind. But graciously, Mike gave him space. Mike knew what he needed to consider before also knowing that they would need each other. And so, the very next morning, even though Jonathan had warned him of the weather, Will realized the truth and biked straight to Mike’s house in the pouring rain.
He hadn’t biked in forever, but it was easy. It was easy to get up and let the motions come back to him.
It was as easy as knowing and loving Mike Wheeler.
That was two years ago. Now, life has never been so peaceful. It’s almost wrong with how at peace he feels - but Will knows that he shouldn’t be guilty over the lack of turmoil, anymore. He’d rather have this. He would. And he’s loved. He knows he is.
“You hungry?”
“Um… yeah.” Will sits himself down at the couch.
Will can easily hear Jonathan’s concern. “You hesitated.”
“I’m okay, Jonathan,” he assures. “I’m just a little excited, I guess.”
Unknown to him, Jonathan smiles rather wide at that. “Oh. Yeah.”
El slips by playfully, holding up the Polaroid to her face and probably having used all the film. Will supposes she’s so giddy since she’s about to have her favorite meal of the day with the family. “I want an updated picture of you. Smile.”
“No, El,” he complains, holding his hand up to block his face.
“Please?” She comes closer.
Will sighs tirelessly, not admitting how much he missed this banter dearly, and lowers his hand, smiling cheesily.
“Take one for me, too, El,” Jonathan goads.
“Wha- Jonathan! Just share it!”
“Take one for mom, too! She’s gonna want that in her wallet.”
“Guys!”
They’re so stupid. They’re all in college, for god’s sake, but then again- they’ve always been a lot like this whenever they all come home. He knows that this isn’t how they’d act in school at all, but this isn’t school, so it makes sense. It’s funny. It’s ridiculous. It’s his crazy yet more normal-than-ever-after-everything little family that he loves.
The weekend oriental breakfast runs smoothly, and Will tries to calm himself for the upcoming early dinner at the Wheeler’s. For the time being, El had finally decided that she wanted in on D&D, and so Will did his best to teach her things without the set, which proved impossible, so they stayed in his room and painted, instead.
Will almost had the impression that his family was trying to distract him throughout the day, seemingly jumping from one thing to do to the next, but he was too caught up in missing everything he saw to care. Plus, it didn’t matter. Dusk arrived quickly.
“Alright, guys, let’s go.”
“We’ll be right behind you, okay? The food’s almost ready.”
“Wait, you’re gonna take the van?”
“Yes! Now don’t worry about us, just go!”
Will nods off all the kitchen to doorway chaos and joins Jonathan and El in the car outside, trudging through the snow that accumulated all night. And after an unreasonable freak-out of the car not moving through the patches of ice, they all make it to the road.
Will’s suddenly a bit concerned. He’s never seen El and Jonathan argue this much over something so small and, really, inconsequential. If the car absolutely didn’t cooperate, he brought up the idea of himself just biking to the Wheeler’s, but the two, in sync, shut him down. His mom also suggested that they wear something a little nice tonight, and Will isn’t entirely sure about the last notion, but he also swears that everyone was guarding the kitchen at some point in time throughout the last day. Perhaps this is just his family, though. It isn’t against their regular selves to be protective. Still, Will has his questions.
But still yet, nothing is too weird. Nothing compared to Hawkins being turned upside down, so he brushes it off.
In fact, he finds himself grinning as they, in record time, make it to the Wheeler’s house. The black paint is slightly chipping off their snow-coated mailbox and the cracks from Vecna’s destruction are clearly patched, but otherwise, the brightly lit-up house looks the same as it always does in December.
And as Will exits the car and closes the door behind him, he realizes just how excited he is. He hasn’t seen any of his friends in person for an entire year, and he can’t stop smiling at the thought of everyone together, under one roof. For the holidays, even. He’s sad that he was in school last Halloween, but Christmas makes a close second for his top favorite holidays. If it gathers everyone together, especially after everything they’ve all been through, he couldn’t be more excited. As he nears, he’s surprised he doesn’t hear everyone talking and mingling, yet. His face falls.
Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no, they better not be pranking him. He knows the Party would.
Suddenly, the door swings open and music fills his ears.
His excitement turned fear immediately shifts to confusion. Max holds the door open with her hip, standing in front of him and playing one of his favorite songs, a wide smirk on her face and a note above the stereo.
Follow the arrows!
That’s Lucas’ neat handwriting if he’s ever seen it.
Will turns to El and Jonathan, and the both of them acknowledge him but say nothing. Max seems to do the same, holding the radio and smiling but saying nothing.
“Hey, Max,” Will greets hesitantly.
“Hi.”
Will turns up his sleuthing mode - something he didn’t quite expect to ever hone into again in Hawkins, but he’s not terribly surprised. And, okay, good, he evaluates, she can speak. He would hate it if this were a strict riddle of some sorts and couldn’t greet his friends.
“What are you-?”
“We can talk later, okay? Just- just follow the instructions. This is the only step. I promise.”
“Why?” he badgers, and Max ignores him, humming along to the tune.
He groans. “Alright, then.”
“Argyle!” Jonathan suddenly hisses quietly behind him.
Will veers to the side and catches Argyle alone - which, what the heck is he doing here? - and is suddenly very, very confused. Argyle most definitely does not have family in Hawkins, and he’s certainly welcome here, but also certainly unexpected.
“Oh, uh, hey, Argyle,” he says, somehow hiding his extreme perplexion. “What’s going on?”
Argyle looks like he’s seen a ghost. “Uh,” he stalls, “look, if anyone asks, you didn’t see me.”
This is definitely a prank. Oh, this is definitely a prank. Will’s nervous. “What?”
“Will! Do you see the arrows?” El distracts him.
“I-I don’t know!” He turns back and Argyle is gone. “Oh my god. Guys, what’s going on? Seriously.”
“Just trust us, Will. Follow the sign.”
“Follow the sign?” he asks doubtfully. Out of nowhere, this holiday seems a lot scarier than Halloween, and his heart races in worry. Everyone is hiding, if not here. Where are they? Why are they doing this? Is no one home, yet? Is this a new thing that Max’s family does to all house guests… not at their own house? Where are all the Wheelers? The Party? Any of his friends? Weren’t they all excited to see each other again? Will shakes off the thoughts and breathes. Breathe, in and out, he reminds himself, so many times that both Hop and Mike have instilled that in him. He thinks of holding Mike’s hands, of the purpose of all this probably being unknown to him. He rests in the peaceful, happy look on Max’s face and supposes he should trust the process.
And then it hits, turns on its head completely, even, as Will lays eyes on the first crafted arrow.
He walks in and takes hold of the paper. It’s a drawing of his, dated 1977. Late kindergarten. He remembers making this drawing. He smiles as the colors of the younger versions of them paint his memory. This was one of the first sketches he made in class with Mike looking over his shoulder.
“Oh my god, where did you guys get these?” he sighs to himself, embarrassed.
He finds another drawing where the next arrow leads, then another, then another, then some mixed with pictures. Each piece has a note attached to it, written in even more unmistakable handwriting: Mike’s handwriting. Will chuckles, trying not to cry, as each letter is written with his best and neatest handwriting, clearly made with love and care. This is the day I knew we’d be best friends. This is the day we all met up at my house for the first time. This is the day I knew I loved you. Each drawing is his own, and each picture is either with his friends or just him and Mike, and the euphoria of what he thinks is coming strikes all at once. The number of photos and art increases with each sign until he’s circled the house, all while Max slowly follows him and lets the music ring sweetly in the background, and by now, Will feels the tears welling up in his eyes.
He thinks he knows what’s about to happen. He looks back to El and Jonathan in disbelief. It all makes sense. The way they acted just before this all makes sense. The way his entire family acted makes sense. The way Max is acting makes sense. The way that no one else is present because they definitely would not be able to act makes sense.
“Oh my god,” he doesn’t even know if he’s said it aloud, “oh my god.”
Max tilts her head to the basement door, El smiling and leaning on her shoulder.
It’s the final sign, a simple but charmingly big heart, drawn with red paint. Will giggles, knowing that Mike probably wanted to write something cheesy but couldn’t and so settled with a heart. He opens the door carefully, preparing himself to fall apart the second he looks inside, and sure enough, he does.
It’s breathtaking.
The room - while familiar for so many reasons and forever homely - is newly covered in white. Alabaster tinsel, opaque balloons, and silver streamers line the edges and dot the ceiling lights and wooden planks. Handmade snowflakes and paper chains litter the entire room, too, hung up and on the floor, lining the railing down and covering all over the wooden posts so that almost no brown is in sight. They’re adorably and obviously homemade, in fact, Will wants to guess that Dustin did the paper chains and Lucas did the snowflakes based on how messy and neat they are, respectively, but they both fill the room so well.
Will breathes in, trembling at the most beholden sight in the middle of it all. Standing amidst moved chairs and tables, fondly towering over all the memories of lamplit games - yeah, he’s somehow gotten even taller this last year and makes the room look tiny - Mike grins.
He looks a bit awkward in formal wear, and Will knows that that baby blue button-up of his hasn’t seen the light of day in over two years, at least, but it still fits, and he was too lazy to get another one. His slacks also fit him well and his red tie is the exact same tie he wore to the Snow Ball, which Will somehow recognizes - perhaps after staring at it for so long to keep himself centered that night - but above all…
He’s beautiful.
Like meeting a prince in Winter Wonderland without the biting cold, he’s ethereal and beautiful.
His hands are behind his back, not helping with the awkwardness, but Will can’t take his eyes off of him. Will laughs to himself in shock as he slowly pads down the stairs. He’s been up and down these very steps so many times, but nothing about this feels the same, in a good way.
As Will nears, Mike holds a sort of goofy smile that’s desperately trying not to cry, too, and Will wants nothing more than to fall into his arms. But he resists, and he reaches the floor, making sure not to step on any precious paper decor, and looks his lover in the eye more clearly.
No one else is around. Will wonders if his family and everyone else here are out in the evening cold for a split second until Mike’s voice steals his every thought.
“Hey, babe.”
“Mike,” he nearly sobs. He hasn’t heard his voice clearly for an entire year, and it’s as melodic and valiant and winsome as ever.
Will crumbles into his embrace. Mike holds him, like he always does.
“I missed you,” Mike whispers.
Will lifts his head, sniffling down tears threatening to spill. “What… can you please tell me what’s happening?” he asks, longing to hear his every hope confirmed.
“What do you mean, ‘what’s happening?’ Isn’t it obvious? I threw a party for you.”
“Yeah, right,” he chuckles, leaning into Mike’s chest. So annoying.
Mike tries not to laugh under him, giving his intention away, but Will can feel his every movement, his nervously beating heart. Or maybe it’s his own. Maybe it’s both of theirs. It doesn’t matter - either way, Will could explode.
“Just,” Mike sighs fondly, “just… give me a second, okay?”
Will nods, shifting his hands across his back comfortingly.
Neither of them have said much to each other yet, Mike really hasn’t said a word - but gentle tears finally escape Will’s eyes as he lies in wait. The tears land on Mike’s shoulder, who sweetly doesn’t pay it any mind. They haven’t said much to each other yet and somehow, Will’s shaking already; his hands feel jittery and his knees feel weak, but he stands. He stands in the arms of his lover and simply takes in the old but calm and cool air of the basement, cherishing the feeling of being held like this which he hasn’t had properly in over a year.
He’s hugged other people since then, of course, but no one else dwells with him like Mike does. No one else truly exists with him like this and knows him the same, knows where he likes to wrap his arms, knows how he likes to rest his head. Will expected he’d receive this today, but not quite in this way. This unbelievable, unimaginable way. It’s still crashing down on him, the thought of what’s about to happen.
Will looks up, distracting himself from crying by taking in the pretty decorations all around them. The white isn’t as blinding as it might be - overcast with such a pleasant hue of golden yellow light that it makes the entire room seem like a snowy sunset. Underneath every glow of snowflake and tinsel and streamer lie even more memories - even more drawings that Will didn’t expect that Mike had kept after all these years but he did, and with the art lie so many little trinkets of childhood and adventure that the entire Party had shared.
So much has changed, but it’s also clear that none of it has, either. None of their hearts, and especially not Mike’s, none of his love has changed.
And, well shit, now he’s crying harder.
“Will,” Mike draws back, tender concern laced in his voice, “hey, you okay?”
Will nods, holding his arms. “Yeah… yeah, I’m just… Mike…” his voice tapers off. “I… I can’t believe this is happening.”
Mike breathes out a laugh, almost delirious, “Yeah, I… I can’t either. I even- I even planned this whole thing out, but now that I see you, I lose it all and it’s so…”
“Do… you want me to start?”
Mike smiles, his eyes curved so much that tears start down his cheeks. “No! No, Will, I did this. I can’t have you- this is my fault for being so- wait, do you know what… what I want to ask you?”
They’re young. They’re young and stupid and only fresh into college, Mike especially, if Will dared to say aloud, but Will must admit he’s just the same. Still, Will knows exactly what’s happening. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t dreamt of this exact moment, of holding his lover close, of smiling so much he can’t think straight, of asking him if they want it to be forever, but he pictured it another year down the line, maybe. Still, he isn’t protesting this. He isn’t protesting this at all.
Will chuckles. “I think I feel it in your hand.”
“Oh, shit,” Mike laughs, holding them closer again to hide his blush, “I’m stupid, I’m so stupid.”
“No, this… this secret was really good. Max had me scared while I was at the door… and my family said nothing,” he consoles, and by the way Mike smiles in his hair, Will knows it’s working.
But the second they hugged, Will confirmed it and felt it - the box. There’s an obvious small box in Mike’s hand that’s been brushing against his spine, and if the cold hasn’t already given him reason to shiver, this certainly does.
“Okay,” Mike says, largely to himself, “okay.”
Will takes a deep breath, centering himself before he knows everything is going to change.
Mike does, too.
“Will, I love you. I… don’t know where I’d be without you. Seriously, and… and honestly, I wouldn’t. Be here. Without you.”
Will breaks, easily as the first snowfall, and sobs.
“I remember when we met, and nothing was ever the same for me. I had my family. I had my sisters, I… I had people I cared for, but. None of them were quite like you. You were always so… a part of my family, at times, I couldn’t tell the difference. Like, I never knew why I couldn’t be your brother. We were literally never not at each others’ houses.” He chuckles. “I could never understand why we couldn’t say we were brothers. You were the only brother I had for a while until we met Lucas and Dustin, and… then we planned giant campaigns. You were so funny. I always thought you were so funny and cute when you got really into them and acted everything out. You were so passionate and… even if we didn’t talk about D&D, you were always passionate, and I admired that. I wanted to be like you. So whatever I did, I thought like you, as much as I could… And somehow… I didn’t see it. I didn’t see how much I loved you and wanted to love you all the time. And, I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive myself for ignoring you that one year… that one year that I should have paid attention to you more than ever.”
Will sobs so powerfully, he goes silent, just clinging to Mike, letting every word wash over him.
“But, even then… god, after all the shit we went through after that, all the shit you went through after that… you loved me. You loved me so much it hurt. And I loved you and ignored it. But… but, point is, Will, you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met. You risked your life for Hawkins. For the world. And… and that doesn’t even begin to describe you.” He leans back tearfully, choking on each word but holding on enough to wipe each of Will’s tears as they roll down his face. “You love unconditionally. You love me through all the stupid and awful and bullshit things I’ve done, and I can’t even fathom how much you love me, sometimes. You write everything with love, too, like you’ve never even left me. Your letters always make me feel like you’re right here, right there. Right in my room and always there. Your words are so…” He takes in a shaky breath. “You’re so kind. And caring. And fearless. I don’t care how much you think things scare you, you’re always ready to face the toughest things. And you’re so, so strong for it. I love… and I love how you’re not afraid to call me out if it makes me get better at anything, and you’re so forgiving. You make me believe in myself even when I don’t believe in myself. You make me, you make everyone around you feel like they’re alive. And that they matter. And I’m no exception. And… and you aren’t, either, Will, you matter. I can’t believe I get to call you mine. And no amount of distance has changed that. Ever. Will, I love you. I know that doesn’t even capture everything I want to say, but I love you.”
Will doesn’t even hide it - what reason does he have to? Mike has seen him like this countless times, and Will isn’t afraid to cry in front of him. But bashfully, so affirmed and known, he sniffles down tears and a painfully permanent smile, and Mike thumbs at his cheek again, uselessly but so, so affectionately.
Mike’s shaking, too, Will feels it the second they aren’t perfectly joined together, and Mike nearly falls over as he fumbles with the box. They share a guffaw as Mike recovers and steadies himself. Will can’t deny that the near-blunder causes an even bigger, more darling blush to spread across Mike’s face, so he can’t be upset that the moment is shaky.
He’s ready for this. Though it’s been all of a few minutes since he figured out what he was going to be ready for, he’s ready for this for the rest of his life.
“William Byers, will you-“
“Yes.”
“No, don’t! Let me-“ Mike coughs, trying to stop laughing as does Will, but neither of them really succeed. After a moment of just holding each other’s hands, they settle.
Punch red in the face and adorable, Mike tries again, “Let me say it. I want to ask you in full.”
Will somehow doesn’t swoon and join the decorations on the ground. Maybe he does, internally.
“Will,” Mike says, softly, like he’s holding the world between them in his palms, “will you marry me?”
“Yeah, yes,” Will asserts, squeezing his hands, “of course I will.”
Mike smiles, his teary eyes glittering in the soft dimness of the room, and stands. A bit caught off guard, Will watches closely as Mike lifts their hands. He, no - Will chuckles - they both struggle to look at the ring, though, flitting glances always staring up at each other’s admiring faces.
“I want… I want you to see this, too.”
Will resists kissing him while he does. “Okay.”
Mike drops the box somewhere to take up Will’s hand with both of his own. Mike smiles. He’s so dramatic.
But his acting it up pays off. It fits perfectly.
Will looks up in awe. “How did- how did you-?”
Mike looks a bit amazed that it fits, too, but quickly shrugs in relief and looks away. “I know you don’t normally wear rings, so… I had to go to your mom to find any fake rings you had as a kid. And then from there Dustin and Suzie… and- and the rest of the Party helped me based on… what I knew from holding your hands. I think Nance and Robin figured it out in the end. But… yeah.”
“Really?” Will grins ear to ear and his heart positively aches at the thought of everyone coming together to do something like this for him.
Mike blushes. “I know. We’re crazy.” And Will thinks he would have it no other way.
Newly ringed hand never letting go of Mike, Will holds him close. Mike takes the opportunity to rest his free hand over Will’s hip. Will grins, sensing the signal immediately. He carefully takes Mike’s right arm, wrapping them naturally in the stance, and suddenly - or maybe he wasn’t paying attention to anything else but Mike until then - quiet music begins to play.
Will sniffles, his tears never really stopping. “When… when were you with my mom?”
Mike’s grin somehow widens as they begin to sway. “I’m always with your mom.”
Will breathes out and shakes his head in disbelief and Mike laughs.
“No, look, I’m sorry, I swear. I swear I’m in love with y-“
Finally, for the first time that night, for the first time in about a year - and Will knows that time span has crossed his mind near perpetually, but it just beautifully doesn’t add up because of all the love still in the air and how lovely it all feels - Will kisses Mike.
It’s funny, at first - Mike clearly has to relax into it after all the stress and nerves that no doubt came from the preparation of this very day - but soon, it’s warm and kind as Mike settles and easily kisses him back. Their legs stop for that moment, that heart-and-time-stopping moment, letting them exist without movement or care of anything else. Will feels their tears against his cheek; Mike quietly exhales. They both clasp their hands together, soothingly. After a while, they finally part to breathe. And Will knows that he couldn’t even capture this moment, couldn’t put pencil to paper and draft it a million times to even come close to what shades and hues and emotions and love he’s experiencing. But still, the urge and inspiration to paint this in his mind, it’s pulling him. He can’t forget this moment, ever. But he’ll do it later, he thinks. Later.
Mike is so beautiful, he chants. He’s so beautiful.
“Will.” Mike kisses his forehead.
“Mike,” he replies, dazed, barely a whisper. As much as volume won’t have him, words will. He needs to speak; he can’t hold anything back anymore. Hushed, he starts, “I knew I loved you. I knew-“
“Will,” Mike exhorts gently, swallowing down more tears, “don’t- you don’t have to.”
Will meets his eyes. “I want to.”
Mike bites his lip like he’s about to bawl, and he nods and lets him. Over all the growing noise of music outside - with a touch of impromptu harmony that Will knows he’s heard before, only it’s a little deeper in timbre, this time - and over all the emotion still hovering in a flurry over the room, Will steadies his breath and touches their foreheads together, imbibing in the kiss just planted there.
Then, voice still low and quiet, only for Mike, with a haze of overwhelming love, he lets the words come to him.
“I knew that I loved you. From day one.” Mike lets out a shaky breath at that. Will continues. “But I didn’t know it either. How much. How… truly. Not until… I don’t know, honestly. It just felt like loving you was always natural to me. Always there. You…” he pauses, just in time as Mike tilts into him and kisses him. “…you were always there. Every day. For the little things. For when I was sick. For when I was sad. For when I was happiest. And when I was… at my absolute worst. When the Mind Flayer had me… you were my center.” Mike kisses him again at that, emphasizing and proving evil’s power gone and nowhere near as strong as their bond. Will chokes on more welling tears.
“Hey,” Mike whispers back to him, kissing away a tear on his cheek, “you okay?”
“Yeah,” he croaks. “Yeah, yeah, I’m just…”
Inexplicably, they’re smiling at each other the same, eyes so close that they can’t focus, but it’s enrapturing, nonetheless. Mike is so beautiful. Radiant. He glows in this light. Has he always glowed like this? Perhaps, obviously, it’s the atmosphere and the fact Mike just proposed to him. Will feels weak in the knees again. He clears his throat-
“...speechless?”
Will slowly breathes out and nods.
Mike giggles, clearly enjoying his struggle like he so often does and yet sounding so earnest, it hurts, “I love you.”
“Mike.”
“I love you more than anything.”
Will lightly knocks their shoes together. “Please stop trying to make me cry harder.”
Mike laughs through yet more tears, his plan backfiring as he looks up to desperately stop crying. He fails, of course. Everything catches up to him, spreading in a flurry. Will takes the chance to lightly kiss his jaw. A spell seems to be cast over Mike when he does, because he seems to sob even harder after that. Mike looks a bit like a wreck, eyes pink as budding peonies, cheeks by comparison in full bloom, fringes frayed at the edges where they’ve brushed their heads together. Will’s certain he himself looks to be in a similar state. He doesn’t mind.
He doesn’t bear appearances any mind besides the fact that Mike still looks so, so beautiful.
“Just,” Will resumes whispering, hoping it can ease his lover even a little, “I want to tell you. I want to tell you again.”
Mike’s bottom lip trembles, he knows the memory that Will wants to tell, and he nods. “Okay.”
The tears pour down both of their faces. Mike looks so endearingly smitten that Will could just kiss him forever. Will resists, though, wanting so badly to tell Mike everything in his heart. Everything he forgot to say over the line last week. Everything that he wanted to remind him. “That day… that day it was you, my mom, Jonathan. Hop. Even El, somehow. Somehow I sensed her, and so I had… everyone in my family, fighting for me… and…” For a split second, Will thinks that this isn’t a good choice. Maybe this is too much.
But what could hurt? What hurts about it anymore, knowing exactly how to retell it and how to place his love without fear? What hurts about Mike knowing it and being there, being here?
It was the hardest day of his life, losing it to the Mind Flayer. His eyes shed no tears but he was crying out. It was like his soul was recessed and dormant, forced into a world worse than another dimension. More torturous. Hearing and not being able to respond - it was torture. Restrained but free, absent but present, feared but loved, all without being able to say a single word.
But…
“...it was you. Of everyone, of everything there that helped me that day, I was so… close to coming back… and I was so close to hugging you… I wanted to so badly… when I heard you.”
Mike’s shoulders heave.
“It wasn’t just me who saved Hawkins. It was you. I-I wouldn’t be alive without you. And I’m so… so grateful for you. Always. You always… you never, ever gave up on me. And so I never gave up. Sometimes I would hear you in the Upside Down, and… I held on because of you. I clung to the sound of your voice… I knew when I heard you… still believing in me. I knew that I loved you. You cared so much for me that you wouldn’t even rest until you found the truth. You saved me. You’re fearless. My shield. My knight… my heart.” Will laughs a little, overjoyed, voice returning briefly, “my Paladin.”
Mike can’t even quip a single thing back, sobbing in his arms.
“After every fight, you always came back to me. Even when I tried to hide, you were so stubborn and found me and held me and… made things right. Even when,” his voice falters, “even when you didn’t know why I was upset sometimes… you never let that stop yourself from loving me. Who… you just know me. And… that should be terrifying, but it isn’t. Because I know that I’m safe when I’m with you. And I know that we’re safe together.” The speechlessness hits him again, but he focuses on their hands still tightly bound to each other, to the ring, preciously held by Mike, and the entirety of his lover before him.
“I love you.”
They’ve stopped moving again. Mike is shaking again, too, and Will almost regrets letting his thoughts go.
“I love you.”
“Will.”
“I love you… so much.”
“Will,” Mike gasps, sealing them into another embrace again. Mike holds the back of his neck, giving himself leverage to kiss his ear. Will sighs fervently, contently. There’s always something about the way Mike holds him and knows him through it. There’s comfort in the way that he doesn’t feel that awful sense there anymore.
Will weeps again, too.
Eventually, after what must be hours or perhaps days, they both practically dry their eyes out for good, wiping each other’s tears away, and have little to nothing left to say. And they don’t need to say a thing, anymore, Will thinks. And by the way Mike tirelessly glows with him, he guesses that Mike doesn’t need any more romantic talk to keep this up, either. So there they reside, in the basement covered in bright, adoring devotion and everything lovely, picking up the thought to dance again as Will finally takes the time to fully notice Dustin and Lucas harmonizing outside the window for god knows how long, Will blesses them with every fiber of his being. He can’t even be awkward about everything he and Mike said to each other - the Party knows them to no end, after all.
“Guys,” Will calls.
“Yeah?” Dustin breaks character for no one, only breaking the song for a split second.
“It’s freezing. Stop and come inside.”
“Sorry, can’t hear you over all the love,” Lucas teases, genuinely.
Mike rolls his eyes fondly and continues dancing with him steadily, still unmistakeable concern in his eyes. “Guys, seriously,” he concurs, “don’t hurt yourselves over us.”
Dustin keeps singing as Lucas replies, “we’re not.”
Will and Mike exchange a look.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes! I’ve got plenty of layers. So does Dustin.”
Dustin hits his arm. “C’mon dude, you’re ruining the mood.”
“I’m just answering them!”
“Well, then, don’t answer.”
Lucas sighs and shakes his head, but follows Dustin, anyway, without further complaint.
“Sorry,” Dustin suddenly breaks. Lucas pointedly raises a brow and doesn’t stop singing. Dustin rolls his eyes and they smile at each other before continuing.
Will sighs, taking in the air, which still isn’t weird like this, at all. It’s only a little bit colder, if anything. He smiles at the duo as they continue to ignore his and Mike’s beckoning. Reluctantly, Will gives up. His attention is quickly brought back to one in his arms, still passionately dancing.
Which, dancing, Will notices. Mike takes up dancing rather well and elaborately. Will’s impressed that Mike, Michael Wheeler - or Michael Byers-Wheeler to be, oh my god, Will stops himself before he bawls again - is able to hold such a perfect tempo. Despite the obvious, heartfelt Snow Ball recreation, fulfilling the dance they never had when they were younger, Will pays attention to the skill keenly as it’s the only thing about Mike he’s never experienced over the past year.
He’ll never get tired of learning about Mike in all the little things, along with the greater things. All of the things. For the rest of their lives.
Will sniffles, still unable to clear the emotion in his throat but having given up by now, “you’re pretty good.”
“I mean, I… I considered majoring in dance.”
Will‘s mouth falls open. “You didn’t.” Mike shrugs, and Will shakes his head, leaning into his shoulder. “You did.”
“I didn’t actually switch, though,” Mike says with an obvious smile. “I think writing is a lot more… my speed.”
Will sighs at length, still impossibly moved by anything Mike says. What else is new, though? Plus, it’s true. It’s so true, and Will knows that writing is one of Mike’s favorite things; he knows it with every mailed print and cursive letter. “Yeah,” he agrees, speechless again.
“Hey,” Mike says softly. “You okay?”
“Yeah-” he stops. “No, you know what? No, Mike, I’m not okay!” They both practically fold in laughter. “The love of my life just… proposed to me when I thought I’d just be coming home like normal.”
Mike holds him closer, which is somehow possible. “Will.”
Will grins, ear to ear. He knows what’s coming - he knows that voice that Mike gets when he’s giddy and about to say…
“I love you. I love you, I love you,” he whispers, on and on and on.
They sway with time, lost in it and irrefutably wrapped in the slowness and chill surrounded by mellow yellow lights. Will closes his eyes, eventually, resting his head on Mike’s shoulder. He swears he can fall asleep like this if his heart wasn’t beating so fast in excitement and glee.
And thankfully, the night is young, still - which Will realizes was planned since Mike knew they’d take forever - and so they slowly leave the basement, hand in hand, and sure enough, the friends and family that Will expected to be present finally appear.
Murray’s first to notice them, because of course he is, and leads everyone to cheer. Mrs. Wheeler and his mom quickly take them up in hugs, crying proudly over them.
“I love you so much.”
“Mom-”
“I’m so, so proud of you.”
Will watches as Mike holds his mom tight and closes his eyes. Will does the same.
“I love you, too, mom,” he whispers.
The Party follows, and Will’s heart just about breaks for Lucas and Dustin whose hands are both incredibly cold, but they insist that they had fun serenading from afar. Will finally breaks again at the sight of El and Max, too, so grateful for their work and all the perfect secrets they kept.
And as Will looks around him and at all the excitement, he notices that Jonathan is most understandably not okay, crying into Argyle’s shoulder. Will sighs, touched. He knows he’s going to have to give his brother a huge hug later.
From there, he hugs his dad. Then Lucas and Dustin’s parents. Then Holly, Nancy, Robin, and Erica, and he learns in awe just how deep the logistics went for today. Nancy dotingly rolls her eyes as Robin excitedly shares about everything they did for the night and how excited she is. He can’t help but be excited, too, of course he can’t. And in the background, Will notices Mrs. Wheeler scolding Mike while holding some flowers, blue and yellow flowers. Will takes note of them.
The welcome chaos only continues throughout the night as everyone eats, and both Will and El seem to glance at Mike proudly as he takes a slice of pineapple pizza. A handful of people get drunk, too, and Will watches curiously as many fellow college-age friends dissuade each other from pouring a glass. Namely, Eddie seems incredibly adamant that Steve doesn’t have a drop, and Will takes note of that, too.
Will and Mike make their way together again, blushing and grinning at each other like fools, hands coming together like magnets, and from there they merely attempt and fail to separate. Murray’s bold and capable enough to approach them first, and the two laugh, a bit awkwardly, and thank Murray for being their help and realization all those years ago.
Will wouldn’t consider many things perfect, but tonight? It’s perfect. Will’s still so excited for everything.
For a moment as the night grows darker and colder outside, Will and Mike split and find themselves talking to their siblings, the people they’ve wanted to sit with for a while now.
“Hey.” Will eases onto the couch.
“Hey,” Jonathan breathes, still teary-eyed. He sits up and turns toward him. “Dude, can I just-?”
Will nods, and Jonathan nearly tackles him in a hug. It’s heartfelt, it’s pure. It’s not too unlike any of the hugs they’ve shared before, back when the world was on its head, but something about this feels… nice. Like it’s not rushed or painful. Will sighs, inviting in the peaceful feeling.
“I’m so proud of you. I’m so, so proud.”
“I know,” Will exhales, trying not to cry for the hundredth time tonight. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Will lets Jonathan let it all out over his shoulder, rubbing circles into his back all the while. After a little, they break apart, still sitting close.
“And thank you,” Will says. “Thank you for everything, I know you did a lot.”
“No,” he says, shaking his head. “Mom did. I helped order a few things, I guess, but I’m mostly the cameraman.”
Will smiles. “That’s still a lot.”
“It’s nothing,” Jonathan scoffs, laughing all in one. “But, um, y’know,” he shifts, “call us, okay?”
Will’s smile fades. “What?”
“Wherever you guys go - look, I know you’re both young, still, but you’re both also really capable - just… call sometimes, if you can. I know El would like that.”
“Jonathan.” He shakes his head. “Jonathan, we’re staying in Hawkins. After college, we’re both planning on coming back. I mean, it’s cheap. Really cheap after the catastrophe, and we like it here, and…” he pauses to look at the relief lining Jonathan’s face as he sits up attentively, “…we’re not leaving you guys. Maybe, because, just in case… y’know… but in general, we think there’s too much to miss if we leave.”
“So you’re-?”
“Staying,” Will assures. “For the next several years, unless things change.”
Jonathan smiles again. “Oh.” They wrap into a hug again. “Oh, thank god.”
Across the way from the kitchen, Nancy smiles.
“So,” she starts. “How’d it go?”
“Better than yours.”
She scoffs, blinking in disbelief. “And I thought you knew me a little, at least-“
“Better than yours will ever be,” Mike clarifies. He knows she hasn’t proposed yet.
He watches as Nancy smiles, annoyed, and bumps him roughly in the shoulder. Son of a- when did Nancy get so strong? He holds his arm and stifles a clear, “ow.”
“You better not talk to him like that.”
“I don’t.”
“Well, then, I hope you don’t get in the habit.”
“You’re not helping. You do realize that, right?”
Nancy smiles, as does Mike, smugly, but he can’t hide that it’s a bit fond, too.
Nancy’s changed. A lot. And Mike can’t lie, he thinks that she’s a great teacher and fighter - and to be both of those things at once? Unfathomable. Mike would say he’s shit at both, so he can’t even imagine how they’re related. But he makes up for it in other ways, she’s told him. He’s a “fine writer” and “pretty good at self-defense.” And that encourages him. It made him realize that they weren’t so different, after all. He almost doesn’t know why he sees and values her so easily after years of never really batting an eye. Maybe it’s because they’ve always been somewhat close and so it was evident to him, maybe it’s the gun-wielding lessons and all the revelations of who they truly were that they unpacked together through it, maybe it’s the bond of sheer, utter, revolting trauma.
“Hey.”
Mike turns to her. He bets on all three.
“I’m happy for you guys. This is big. This is… really big.”
“Yeah,” he says with a nod.
And slowly, Nancy sighs before admitting, “I think you’re gonna do great.”
Mike takes a sip from the cup next to him, trying not to squirm from the grossly genuine compliment, and nods again, setting the drink down. “Thanks.”
Then comes the feeling - the awful, crawling feeling of outward affection: Mike wants to hug her. Mike knows he should do something and has ignored it for so long ever since he came home and talked with his sister again, but he still wants to show her his thanks-
“Mike!” Will taps the counter from across the kitchen, face gorgeously alight with a camera in his other hand. “Jonathan got me a new video camera! It’s got a camera, or, well, you know, like- a still camera feature and a video camera feature! I can store both of them in one card, so now I can take both, I-“ he slows down when he sees Nancy. “Oh, sorry. Just wanted to let you know that Jonathan’s gonna be taking photos for everyone downstairs.”
Mike brushes over his hand, heart stolen as Will parts adorably and full of enthusiasm. “Okay. Be there in a second!”
He looks back to Nancy, her arms crossed non-intimidatingly yet intimidating no matter what. She tilts her head up, signaling, “go.”
Mike slides away from the counter and swallows, about to listen to her lest she call him a bad fiancé or something, but then he stops. “Nance.”
“Yeah?”
Shyly but certainly, without a thought in mind, he turns to her and opens his mouth, about to ask, but he’s caught off guard as she already has her arms open. He looks Nancy up and down, wondering how she read his mind, and she chuckles.
She doesn’t say it, but he can clearly hear the, well, what’re you waiting for? from her clairvoyant pose.
Whatever, he thinks but doesn’t dare brush her off. And so Mike hugs her. “Thank you,” he says quietly, only muted slightly by her hair.
Nancy just holds him. And by the way she does, he knows that she’s smiling. Sure enough, when they pull apart, she is. She takes the chance to shoot back as equals, looking him up and down and wondering what he’s doing.
He does his best to not look back, sincerely happy, as he heads to the basement.
Even though the evening is long gone, everyone still has a ton of energy. And thankfully, by now, both he and Will’s faces look fairly normal even after having sobbed for an hour straight, and so they all take photos, proudly in the light, joyous screams echoing around the room that has never seen so many people.
Nancy eventually joins them, quickly taking on the annoying role of auditor for Jonathan as she directs angles and lighting once realizing it’s too dark, and Robin and Argyle make quite the fun duo as they help everyone pose. El does the best posing, in Mike’s opinion.
Eventually, everyone besides him and Will are ushered out, and the both of them bare with the uncomfortable quiet again, trying not to make ridiculous couples poses for the ages. They ease into it, though, getting lost in time and just laughing with each other. His mom brings the flowers to work with, too, and Will takes them, seemingly knowing that they were for him.
And… like a rainbow of color incarnate, Will’s slightly flushed face and luminous eyes mixed with the dim golden light and bright yellow and blue petals, he’s beautiful.
They’re finally cut off by the door opening, Steve peeking in. “Uh, guys? No rush, but it’s kinda…”
“Oh, shit-“ Mike remembers, veering toward the windows. He face-palms and groans. Of course he got carried away with Will - how could he not? “It’s too dark! Do you think we can still do it?”
Steve and Eddie shrug at each other, the latter seemingly appearing out of nowhere. “Yeah,” Eddie says nonchalantly. “Not a problem. It’s more on you, Wheeler. If you think you two will be okay out there.”
“What?” Will’s eyes have yet to stop shining. “Do what? Out where?”
Mike’s face hurts from grinning all night, but he can’t help but grin even more at his lover. “We have one final surprise for you, babe.”
Eagerly, Will takes his hand.
Mike still can’t believe there’s a ring there. He can’t believe that he’s going to have to pick something for himself, too, later. He can’t believe that any of this is real. And yet it is. And yet, Will’s right here. And yet, Will’s holding his arms again, kissing him in the back of the camper like they’ve been apart for so long… which is true, to be fair.
And thankfully, the drive is short.
“Alright, lover boys!” Eddie announces. “We’re here.”
“At least, I think we are,” Steve adds. “Wheeler! Is this the right sign?”
“Um,” Mike shouts back, a little, looking around outside and doing his best to recognize the scenery amidst the snowfall as Will leans into him, “yeah!”
“Alright!”
Mike breathes. “We’re here.”
Will nods. They exit the side door, putting on their jackets. Will protests and Mike laughs, pulling him outside and raring to run to their destination. He hopes that maybe Will won’t recognize where they are, but even in the dark of night and the settling of snow, it’s obvious, so he relies on speed to disorient.
“Thanks guys! Be back in a few!”
“Hey, hey! Be careful! We don’t have a hospital in town anymore, remember!?”
Eddie snickers. “They’ll be fine. Let boys be boys.”
“Yeah, but I won’t let idiots be idiots and make us drive out to Roane County Central.”
Eddie leans in. “And since when did you have a problem with road trips, Harrington?”
Steve shakes his head and looks away, weakly hiding his smile under the car light.
Meanwhile, Mike and Will do their best to not trip over any large branches or get stuck in the snow or do any other dumb things. They do it with relative ease, though, so Mike figures that Will knows where they are.
“This is so dangerous!”
“We’ll be fine! We have a… semi-large cushion everywhere we go, just trust me, babe!”
“Mike!”
Mike stops, out of breath, and he starts to think that maybe Will wants them to tumble, drawing near to the ground. Maybe that would be refreshing, honestly. Maybe-
“Will, are you-”
But before Mike can register it, cold snow is being smashed to his face, and he shrieks. “Oh my god!”
Will laughs, adorably, and Mike can’t even begin to be mad at him. He just scoops up a ball of snow and throws and effectively misses. He genuinely tries to pelt Will with one - at least one - snowball, but he can’t do it. Whether it’s a lack of skill or too much of a heart that never wants to hurt Will ever again, Mike doesn’t think he’ll ever know.
Will laughs and laughs, and Mike has never heard such a wonderful sound. All of his favorite songs on the radio could never even come close. Will’s eyes glint so happily in the night, and Mike has to remember to gear his arm up to even pretend to throw when he’s beholding such a sight.
Another one smacks him upside the jaw, an ice pack to heal nothing but leftover kisses that Mike really doesn’t want to erase.
“Will! Holy shit, mercy!”
“Oh,” Will exhales, clearly out of breath, and he comes closer. “I’m sorry, are you actually hurt?”
Mike, face red, grins and plants a snowball right into Will’s chest.
“Ugh, Mike!”
The forest echoes with giggles as Will chases Mike down the patchy ground to get revenge, and Mike sees a light on the horizon. His heart skips a beat as he leads Will to it. Mike is thrilled. Still yet, Will is pretty damn fast with a good arm, and Mike is almost genuinely worried one or both of them will fall.
Well, at least that wouldn’t be the first time they fell for each other.
They finally halt, the structure just an eyeshot away, and Will nearly slams into him. Mike catches him, though, and they laugh. The air nearly turns to a vapor around them, and both their exhales only colors the sky more. And Will’s eyes still glimmer in the dead of night.
Slowly, they catch their breaths and make their way over.
Will links their arms together and gasps. “Oh my god. Mike.”
Mike smiles proudly as Will beholds the scene. Hawkins is truly nothing without him, Mike thinks. What is Hawkins without its soul, without its very calls of childhood and livelihood and heart? What is Mike without him?
So there they stand, in the dawn of midnight and barely visible moon among the clouds of gray and specks of white, beholding the new-and-improved Castle Byers.
It looks the same, for the most part, only bigger. And sturdier, with several layers of planks. And more furnished, full-sized couch fitting in the base of the tree trunk. And more decorative, with Christmas lights and photos tied with fishing line and thread and clothespins and-
Okay, so maybe it doesn’t really look the same.
But at the heart of it, it does. Its shape holds true. Its Will-ness holds true. And what else could top that?
Will grips his arm tighter.
Somehow, in the tiny beams of light from the inside out, Mike sees it and practically feels Will’s thoughts rushing in.
“Hey.” Mike gently turns Will’s crying face, trying not to let his heart burst all over again.
“No, no don’t… don’t worry about me being sad, I’m not.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes-“
“Are you sure you’re sure?”
“Mike,” Will giggles, and Mike kisses him deeply, “yes.”
Mike is so overwhelmed. He curses himself for doing this all in one night, but because it’s for Will, he couldn’t be more happy. Truth be told, they’ve talked about this before. This very moment, all those years ago in the pouring rain. They’ve talked about this over the phone, months ago, across lines twisted between fingers and voices cracking through speakers, and from that moment on, Mike made it his ultimate goal to come home and make the fix. He knew it would never fix everything, not in one day or one week, as it took, but it would change something.
And maybe that change is all they need. Maybe the wait is all worth it, too, since he gets to see his lover weeping without sorrow.
“I’m sure,” Will dotes, never breaking his stare on him. “I’ve never been more sure about anything. It’s perfect. And amazing. And everything I ever wanted.”
And Mike has learned enough about subtext over the years to know that Will isn’t just talking about the haven in front of them.
Mike kisses him all the way into the cozy fortress, under glittering fairy lights and over profusely beating hearts, the snowfall stopping as their new lives begin. How did he get so lucky? How does he cherish Will more? How can this night never end?
After a long while, time uncountable, nature writes its ultimatum as their final force and guide since nothing else would, and the midnight grows uncomfortably cold, forcing them out of the Castle. They scramble out, Mike mutters, shit, their ride has been waiting for god knows how long, and Will urges him to relax. So he does. They’ll find their way home, Will says. And Mike believes him.
How could he ever be lost from home when he’s with Will? He’ll never be lost again. He’ll never forget the bliss on Will’s face, either, his countenance causing Mike to want to draft a million novels about his lover. His fiancé.
How could a story as crazy as theirs end up like this?
Mike supposed he shouldn’t question it. After everything they’ve done, it’s truly no question, anyway. Mike dreams of their future in Hawkins, in telling its story together and never being apart while doing it. Perhaps they’ll write their own story, too. The thought sends shivers down his entire body, forget the icy winter breeze. Warm hand in impeccably warmer hand as they run back to the camper, soon back to all the people they love, Mike smiles.
Will is his everything.
And he’ll always be his everything, time after time.
Mike is excited.