Chapter Text
Mike walked up to Will's house, feeling a bit giddy like he did every time he was about to spend alone time with his best friend. Will would come over to Mike's when all members of the Party did so it was Mike's turn to make the trip when it was going to be just them. It was their silent agreement.
Joyce opened the door before Mike could ring the doorbell. "Oh hi, Mike," she greeted him and left the door open for him as she stepped out, probably going to work, "it's lucky you're here. Jonathan's cooking your favorite tonight."
It was also their silent agreement not to talk about how Mike would stay the night every time he was there and how Will would syrup up his eggs in the morning because he knew he'd − or wanted him to − also stay for breakfast. They were aware how dependent they both were on each other after all the shit that went down, there was no point in acknowledging it.
He walked into the house after saying goodbye to Joyce, ready to kick Will's door open enthusiastically with his usual how much did you miss me, Byers?! To hear Will's − also usual − not as much as you missed me and sit beside Will when he made room for him on his bed.
But he stopped in his tracks when he saw Jonathan on Will's bed from the door that was open ajar. He looked… sympathetic.
"I just can't ignore it," he heard Will say, "it's not some random fact about me; it's always there. And it's like everyone knows there's something about me but I can't actually tell anyone. I can't tell the people I care about." He sounded so sad and angry at the same time. Mike ached to go in and comfort him, but he had a feeling he wasn't supposed to hear this so he stood there, waiting for a pause to announce his presence without making Will feel awkward. "I can't know if they'd still like me if I told them, so how do I know that they like me?"
I'd still like you, whatever it is, he was gonna tell Will, and I know you'll still like me when I tell you what I can’t tell anyone, he was gonna walk in right now and tell Will.
He started to take another step closer when Jonathan spotted him and looked so shocked it froze Mike again. Maybe he really wasn't supposed to be a part of this. He moved away from the room to sit on the couch and pretend he didn't see anything as he heard Jonathan say, "Nothing, I thought I saw a bee."
Thankfully, Will didn't seem suspicious of him when he saw him on the couch a couple of minutes later.
"What are you doing here?" Will asked with a smile. He looked a bit worn out, maybe from the depressing conversation he'd just had.
Mike wanted to hug him so badly, he even had the vision of kissing the sadness off of his face which he pushed out of his mind quickly, but he didn't want to bring the thing up that had made Will so bummed out so he settled on saying, "I just missed you." It was about time he admitted. He missed Will almost every second.
Will waited for a punch line and when he realized Mike was being serious he blushed and sat close next to him. "Oh. I missed you, too."
Mike's stomach did an entire somersault at how good it felt to hear Will say that, and how good it had felt to tell Will that. He needed to be more open to Will, he decided, then maybe Will wouldn't feel like he had to hide things from him.
"Jonathan was actually telling me to invite you over since he's about to cook your favorite tonight."
Mike smiled at Jonathan and also at how Will's family felt like his second. They never implied that Mike was intruding even when he stayed over for the better part of a week. Mike's family got along well with Will too. Well, except for his dad which made him a little embarrassed but he figured Will's dad wouldn't be such a big fan of him either if he was around. You can’t exist and not have a few weird men in your life, he supposed. Fortunately Jonathan wasn't one of them. Usually, that is.
Right now Jonathan was staring occasional daggers at him from the other couch. It didn't have the effect he was intending to, considering he had literally meant to invite Mike over to his house and feed him. Plus, Mike knew he was threatening him on Will's behalf. But Jonathan knew him; he knew he'd die before doing anything to upset Will, so it was clearly a dire situation. He didn't know if he could hold his curiosity in any longer.
As it turned out, he didn't have to. Because a few minutes into watching random channels Will left to give Lucas back a schoolbook he'd borrowed from him, and Jonathan didn't waste any time to address the elephant in the room.
"How much of that did you hear?"
"None of it," he lied, but Jonathan obviously wasn't fooled and now that he had brought it up Mike could ask him what was going on so he admitted, "Fine, I heard Will say he's hiding something. And I think you should tell me what it is."
Jonathan raised an eyebrow. "Why is that?"
"Well because it's clearly bothering him!" He tried not to yell but this was so infuriating. Will had a problem that he wasn't telling Mike. Why wouldn't he tell him? "If you tell me and I talk to him about it and show him I still like him then he'll feel better and I can actually help him." He was enunciating every word, gesturing profusely to convince Jonathan that this was very logical and simple, really.
"It's not my secret to tell, Mike." Oh, so it was a secret now.
"Cool. I'll ask him myself then."
"You really shouldn't do that." Jonathan shook his head. "It'd stress him out."
"So, what, you suggest I shut up and watch him doubt our friendship?" He knew he was being a little shit but he was too deep into the tantrum to back off now. "Tell me or I'll ask him."
Maybe he should have acted more maturely and then Jonathan would consult him about it. But Will was worried if he'd share something about himself he'd lose his friends, so obviously the only way to solve this was proving to him that he wouldn't actually lose them, and Jonathan wasn't getting it.
"Alright, fine," Jonathan sighed, "I'll tell you. But it's nothing serious." Huh, what do you know? He was getting it.
Mike nodded ardently, proud of his negotiating tactics.
"It's not really something that would change your mind about him. He was just exaggerating there. You know how he is about, you know, having been connected to the Upside Down and all that."
Mike bristled. "Is he in danger?"
"No, nothing like that. He's been having some weird dreams," Jonathan explained, "he was concerned he'd remind you of bad stuff if he told you. But he's fine so there's no need for you to talk to him about it."
"Damn right, there is! He's having nightmares."
"Not − not nightmares. He's, um… embarrassed. With his dreams. That's why you should never bring it up."
"Why would he be embarrassed?"
Jonathan slapped his own knees and sighed. He seemed like he didn't want to say whatever he was about to say but he wanted Mike out of his hair. The power of annoyance is not to be taken lightly. "He has this recurring dream where… he's being wined and dined. By a charming demogorgon."
Mike tried not to laugh, he did, but a treacherous snort paved the way for a guffaw. "I'm sorry." He covered his mouth.
"It's okay. So, you see? It's nothing big. He's gonna be okay if you don't remind him about it. Seriously, he's just gonna be embarrassed if you do."
Mike nodded. But for the rest of the day he kept playing the conversation he'd overheard in his head and he felt so bad for wishing it really had been a big secret; because when Will eventually spoke to him about it, perhaps he could also confine in Will with his own problem. He could tell him that after him and El promoted their relationship to platonic, he'd realized he had no interest in dating girls. That he was faking it every time Lucas introduced him to a cute girl and he flirted with her for a good while before proclaiming to the Party that she just wasn't the one. Because what if they assumed things about him? Things he wasn't ready to assume about himself.
He pushed all of that to the back of his head as he lay on Will's bed. There were pillows and blankets lain on the floor for him but this was going to be one of the nights they'd share the bed. Joyce and Jonathan had both walked in on them in the morning on multiple occasions and they never even acknowledged it. That was one of the reasons he loved the Byers' household; nothing was too strange.
When they had calmed down after long intense fits of laughter at the most absurd things and were finally getting sleepy, Mike decided he wasn't letting his best friend go another day thinking anything could make Mike not like him. And that Jonathan wasn't the boss of him.
"Will?" he whispered, looking at the ceiling in the dark.
"Hmm?" Will answered beside him.
"We've been through a lot together, right?"
"Mhmm."
"And all of it only made us bond more."
"Actually I liked you better before, when you let me sleep," he said jokingly, but when he looked at Mike's face who was carefully planning what to say he asked, "what's up, Mike?"
"I'm just making sure you know there's nothing that could ruin our friendship. Not a monster from another world, and certainly not anything from this world."
"What is this about?" he asked apprehensively.
"I heard your talk with Jonathan."
It was quiet for a long moment in the room. Too long. Too quiet.
"Oh."
Another moment. Mike waited patiently.
"And… you're okay with it?"
"Of course I am!" he said and he saw Will visibly relax and give him a huge smile and just like that, all the tension left the room. Now all Mike felt was warmth and comfort inside the bubble of Will's satisfaction. He'd told Jonathan this was the way to solve this problem and it felt good being right about that; having this much effect on Will. "I mean, it is weird," he continued, wanting to further console his friend, "but not in a bad way. In a funny way."
"Funny?"
"Yeah, it's not a big deal, man. And obviously it doesn't make me not like you, because that's not you. It's gonna go away in no time and you'll laugh about it, trust me."
"Huh." Will turned away from him, lying on his side. Mike thought he'd imagined the atmosphere shift back to the tense state it was in a minute ago, but when Will pulled up the blanket only on himself, insinuating he didn't want to share the bed anymore, he thought maybe he wasn't imagining it. And he was sure he wasn't when he woke up to no eggs and syrup for him on the table.
Days passed. Okay, two days, but it was too long for Will's silence. He didn't pick up the phone when Mike called his house the day after the sleepover to make sure things were fine and he didn't call back after he told Joyce to inform him the Party would be at his place, so he cancelled the whole thing.
He didn't understand what he'd done to receive the cold shoulder from Will. He'd prefer any other kind of shoulder, honestly. He'd take Will's anger and shouting any day because then at least he'd know what he'd done wrong. He kinda knew, Will got all weird when he called his dreams funny, but he must have known that Mike was just trying to tell him that it was a silly dream and it didn't mean anything.
He was torn between giving Will time and confronting him, but that was only for a few hours. He was too angry and confused to wait another day, so he got out of his room where he'd been sulking for the last two days and he biked to Will's house.
He took a few deep breaths to diminish his anger. Yes, Will was being ridiculous but yelling wouldn't solve anything. As he calmed himself down a little, he felt guilty for thinking that; Will wasn't being ridiculous. He'd survived things that Mike could never, so of course he had all the right to be sensitive about those matters. Mike was just mad he didn't get a chance to tell Will what he'd been meaning to. He'd felt so excited about finally getting to tell someone how he felt so different all the time, and he'd felt so relieved that that person would be Will. But now he'd hurt Will and he didn't even know how to apologize since he didn't know what the problem was exactly. He just hoped he'd have mercy on him because he couldn't take the anxiety of losing his best friend anymore.
Will was the one who opened the door, his face void of emotion. "Did you want something?"
"Yes! I want you to talk to me! This is so unfair."
"Ah-huh so it's unfair for you."
"Yes, it is, Will. I miss you every day that I don't get see you and you don't even talk to me on the phone now." He felt a lump in his throat. He wouldn't let it get bigger. He couldn't show up at Will's door to apologize for hurting him and then just be annoying. "And I − I didn't know I'd said something wrong but you could have told me. You know I never wanna hurt you and I don't wanna lose you again but how am I supposed to let you know I'm sorry when you're so quick to give up on me?" he tried to keep his voice soft but it did nothing to prevent the ugly big tears from falling down.
Will pulled him in an embrace, rubbing his back slowly. Mike loved this, of course, but he also hated it. This was what he didn't want, Will still being upset but having to stop Mike's pathetic crying. "It's okay." He sounded drained, as he should; Mike was aware he was being fucking exhausting.
"No, it's not," he pushed out between broken breaths but he didn't get out of the hug, it helped to not look into Will's eyes, "I made you feel bad for what's not your fault. I'll never do that again, Will, I promise."
Will kept rubbing his back, more soothingly now. "Good."
His voice wasn't indignant or annoyed anymore, but it wasn't convinced either. It was fine, Mike could work with that. "I'm sorry I called it funny. It's not. It's terrible. It's a result of all your trauma, that's why your brain comes up with that stuff. It must suck, I'm sorry."
Will pushed him out of his arms like he was burned. He looked at him incredulously, shaking his head. Mike had no idea what was going on, but the disgust on Will's face made his stomach churn. "Mike Wheeler," he said it like it was a profanity and Mike braced himself for worse, "you are the stupidest most self-centered person I have ever met!"
Mike was quiet. Everything he'd said until now had done the opposite of helping. He was lucky Will wasn't capable of using bad words even when he was livid.
"How did I ever call you my friend?" He pushed his hair back, pressing his palm on his forehead.
Oh, well that was kind of worse than any other word in existence. His stomach was still screaming at him. He was still clueless about why he deserved this. But he held his silence. Will just needed to get it off of his chest, and then he could fix it, right?
"I make up an excuse for you every time you make me feel like shit. He just needs time with his girlfriend, he's just not good at calling first, he'll make it up to me, we were kids, it's in the past. But it's not in the past, is it?" He rips into Mike's soul ruthlessly and he takes it. He wants to say that it is in the past and they've been doing really well recently and that whatever this was about he would try his hardest, but he kept his mouth shut because Will was right, he kept fucking up somehow. "I guess you can only manage being decent for a while before you stop caring about anyone besides yourself. Or just me. You come all the way here just to − oh my God, I can't believe I wanted to tell you. I thought you'd understand. But you're just as uncaring and close-minded as everyone else. No, you're worse; at least other people don't pretend to be my friend," he shattered everything left inside of Mike and he slammed the door in his face after stating, "I don't ever wanna see you again."
Mike still stood there, staring at the closed door. Will was gonna come out again any second and forgive him. And Mike would shut up forever. He never wanted this to happen again. Will would open the door right now and Mike would forget this ever happened, because what could he do with it? What could he do with you're worse than everyone else?