Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Mike! I need your help!”

Mike blinks. “Will? Is… there a particular reason why you sound like the world just exploded?”

There’s some shuffling over the line, and then the familiar sound of his best friend huffing, evidently having some sort of breakdown. “Yes, actually, there is, Michael. Now I’m going to tell you about my dilemma, and you’re going to listen. Okay?”

He chuckles. “Okay, okay. I’m listening. You’ve got my complete, undivided attention.” That is, if you don’t count the English assignment he’s currently writing, the computer strewn comfortably over his lap. 

“Okay,” Will says, taking a deep breath. “So, I was on the phone with El. She and Max are back from their trip, you know that, and I couldn’t go pick her up from the airport, so I called her instead, and she told me about this party they’re planning on throwing, now that they’re back.”

Mike snorts. “Obviously Max wants to throw a party. They were only gone for two weeks, geez.”

“ Anyways ,” Will says warningly, “she asked me how I was doing.”

“...doing about what?”

“About-” a loud, exasperated sigh. Mike can basically picture his face in his mind, fingers pressing against the bridge of his nose. “About Sebastian .”

Oh.

The very mention of his name makes Mike’s blood boil. The guy thinks he can just waltz up, toy around with Will for a bit, be the first real boyfriend he ever had, and then disappear like it’s nothing? No. No way. If Mike ever sees him again- well, he should watch out, that’s all he’s going to say. “What about Sebastian?” he says as casually as possible, trying to hide the anger he’s currently feeling.

Will sighs again, deep and heavy. “It’s- it’s like she thinks I’m fragile or something, Mike! That I need her protection, her help, and if she doesn’t check up on me every ten seconds I’m going to explode into tears. It was three months ago , I’m fine! I love her, I do, but it’s so overbearing sometimes. Not to mention she keeps trying to set me up with every guy she meets.”

…what.

Mike did not know??? About El trying to set Will up??? When did that start? And why wasn’t he informed? He’s the best friend, is he not? El should have spoken to him first, clearly. He needs to properly check every guy firsthand, to make sure they meet his very specific list of requirements, and also don’t have a history of problems. Not just any old guy is suitable for Will, after all. No, he deserves the very best.

(The very best being standards that are impossible to meet. You did this on purpose, didn’t you?)

“She’s trying to set you up? What the hell?” And shit, if that didn’t come out more aggressive than intended.

“Right? So anyways, she suggested some guy for a date to her party, and I really didn’t want to, so I panicked, and told her I already had a date. This made her really excited, and she wanted to know everything about them.” Mike can hear him swallow heavily over the phone. “I, uh… I panicked again, since I don’t actually have a date, and just blurted out the first name that came to mind.”

Dead silence. Mike frowns. What exactly does this have to do with-

“I told her you were my date, Mike.”

…

What.

The.

Fuck.

If that doesn’t grab his attention, then Mike doesn’t know what ever will.

“Sorry, you- you told her what?” His voice comes out strangled and hoarse, unsurprisingly. The computer is abandoned, English project forgotten. Fuck, he needs some water, or some food, or something. The shock is too much for him to handle.

A pause. More shifting on Will’s end. “Um. That. That you were my date?” His voice is wobbly, almost fearful. After almost fifteen years of friendship, Mike can recognize any emotion in his voice, even over the phone. And this, right now? It’s not looking good.

“I- why ?”

“Well, I panicked!” Will’s voice starts to pick up a defensive tone. God, this is not what Mike meant to do, but he’s just so confused, he doesn’t even know what to say. He knows he can be a bit of an asshole sometimes, but he doesn’t know how to stop, especially when- when his whole world has been flipped around, like right now. “You’re the only gay person who’s not in a relationship I could think of in the span of ten seconds. Look, I’m- I’m sorry about it, okay? That’s why I’m calling you. Because I- I made a mistake and I can fix it really easily by calling El and telling her it was a mistake, I don’t mind, I know I potentially just ruined our entire friendship and I’m so sorry but I just-”

“Will, I-”

“-I don’t want to lose you as a friend and I don’t want to make you feel awkward about it, so I’m just gonna tell El it was a mistake, but I wanted to let you know in case she asks about it at the party and-”

“Will, would you just-”

“-God, I’m such an idiot, sorry. I don’t know what came over me, it was like- like I was possessed, you know? And I wasn’t thinking straight and I just blurted out your name and now I feel like such an asshole-”

“Will!”

Finally, he listens. A shuddering breath. “What?”

“I’ll do it.”

Wait. He'll do what?

That was not what he meant to say. Like, not at all . He was preparing himself to tell Will that it’s okay, that it didn’t ruin anything in their friendship, that they’re all good but he doesn’t think he can pretend to date him, not that he would ever think badly of Will, like, at all. But instead he blurted that out? Where did it even come from?

(Why could you never pretend to date him? What makes him so different from everybody else?)

His heart is beating wildly in his chest. On the other end of the line, Mike can’t even hear Will breathing anymore, and he frowns. “Will? Are you… alive?”

“You’ll… you’ll do it?”

“Um. Yeah, if you already told El? I don’t mind, not if it’s just one night.”

What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck. What is he saying? Words are just spilling out of him, words that he didn’t even think he had in him, words and sentences that he’s only ever pictured himself saying in his wildest dreams, not ever in real life. Especially not to Will . This is so not what he intended to do, and yet-

-yet he can’t find himself ever saying no.

Surprisingly, his voice remains calm, stable. “We can just, like, pretend to go out for a bit, right? And then say that we’re better off as friends? Chill and easy, simple and neat. Nothing going wrong. Right?”

“Uh- yeah, yeah, right.” Will sounds like he just had a stroke. Mike certainly feels like he had one. “You’re sure you’re okay with this?”

Say no, say no, say no. Now is the perfect time to say no. All you have to do is say- “Yeah, I’m totally good with it. You said it first, right? I’m gay, and it’s not like you have that many options just lying around.”

Fuck. He is so fucking screwed.

There’s another pause, longer than the last one, before Will speaks again. “Well, if you’re sure,” he says softly. “I appreciate it, Mike.”

He shrugs, trying to calm his shaking hands and slow his racing heartbeat. “It’s no problem,” he replies. “That’s what friends are for, right?”

(Friends. Yes, because really, that’s all you want to be with Will.)

“Yeah. Friends.” Will says, his voice coming back slightly. “Look, uh, I have class soon, but I’ll talk to you later, okay? How about after my class, and we can go over some logistics?”

“Sure, yeah, whatever you want,” Mike replies. He tries to make his voice sound as bored and disinterested as possible. By the way Will mumbles a goodbye, he feels like he might have succeeded just a little bit too much. God, he’s such an asshole, isn’t he? The call ends with a harsh beep, and not even a second has passed before his hands give out, and the phone crashes to the floor.

Holy shit. 

He’s in for a world of trouble now.

♡ ♡ ♡

“...you’ve gotta be shitting me.”

“Max, I swear, it’s the truth!” Mike protests. The two of them are sitting in a booth at their favourite milkshake place, the only place they can actually agree on to meet at. It’s been maybe thirty minutes since his call with Will… let’s just say he panicked, okay? “Look. Do you really think I would lie about something like this? I know, me and Will together, it’s a little hard to believe, but-”

She snorts. “You’re actually an idiot, aren’t you? I’m not surprised you and Will are together. I’m just surprised you managed to pull your head out of your ass long enough to realize that he’s right in front of you. God, it’s been a painful six years, watching you two dance around each other like fucking idiots. I can only imagine the pain Lucas and Dustin were put through, having to deal with it for even longer.”

And just like that, Mike is floored again. “Sorry, what? You mean to tell me that- that you think Will and I have been- ‘dancing around each other’ since middle school ? What the fuck?”

She rolls her eyes. “What, are you trying to tell me you haven’t been?” When he doesn’t stop looking at her like she just grew a third head, she frowns. “Are you serious? Did you really not realize until just now?”

“...no? Also, realize what?”

“Oh my god, you’re hopeless. Literally the most pathetic person I’ve ever met. I feel sorry for Will.”

“Wow. Some friend you are!”

“Look. El and I only pretended we were straight for, like, a year before getting together. You and Will? You’ve been friends way longer, and he made it so obvious, I don’t know how you didn’t realize. It’s pathetic. I’m just calling it as it is, Wheeler.” She shrugs.

“Woah, woah, woah. You’re lying. That can’t-” he can’t even say it out loud. There’s no way it’s true, though. Right? Will can’t actually be in love with Mike. Especially not since middle school. He was the one who suggested fake dating, for god’s sake! It’s called fake for a reason - because he doesn’t want it to be real. “-there’s no way that’s true.”

Max sighs. “Believe what you want, I don’t give a damn. I’m just glad you two are finally together.” She takes a loud, obnoxious slurp of her milkshake, smiling in satisfaction as she finishes it. Mike wrinkles his nose. Why they’re even friends is beyond him.

“It’s not even a big deal,” he grumbles, shrinking down into his seat. “It’s totally casual. We’re totally casual. You know, taking this one step at a time kind-of-thing.”

“Mhm, sure you are. Because you’re capable of doing casual.”

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”

“If you can’t figure that much out, then I pity you, Mike.” She stands up. “I gotta run. Good luck on this whole thing, though. If it goes badly, I’m taking Will’s side.”

“It won’t go badly,” he protests. “It’s casual, remember?”

“Sure it is!” she shouts over her shoulder, heading for the door. Mike slumps over the table, ignoring curious gazes from other customers.

He actually feels worse than he did before. He didn’t know that was possible.

You see, Mike has a problem. A really, really big problem. A problem that actually existed before Will asked him to fake date him, although this whole situation is just making his problem worse, really. A lot worse. As in Mike doesn’t know how he’ll ever get over this worse.

Here, he’ll start at the beginning. Mike was an oblivious child. Looking back on it, yes, it’s true, and he’s willing to admit it. It took him ages to push past the excuses he would subconsciously make about himself, and his feelings, and even longer to actually accept the truth, once he understood it. Where all it took was one year for El to realize she wasn’t straight, it took him… three, and that’s from after she dumped him - not even counting the before. The extremely, extremely long before.

It all started when Hopper and Joyce got married, when Mike was only ten.

(…okay, that’s a lie. Technically, it started when Mike was five, and starting kindergarten, but for all intents and purposes, ten is an easier place to start from. So.)

Hopper brought with him a daughter, and she was the first girl Mike had ever been friends with. Naturally, this led to confusion of feelings - since he felt differently about her than he felt about Will, he must have had a crush on her, right? He and El were friends for two years before he asked her out to the Snow Ball. She said yes. They started dating right away, and for the next year, they were obnoxiously in ‘love’, both clearly overcompensating for their gayness but not yet realizing it. He cringes, actually, looking back on how mushy they had been - only hanging out with each other, always holding hands, always ditching Will and Lucas and Dustin.

Then Max showed up.

Max showed up, and she rode a skateboard, and Lucas and Dustin were hooked - only she never had eyes for them, only El. To Mike’s dismay (at the time), El had eyes for Max, too. By the time he was fourteen, El had broken up with him, announced that she was a lesbian, and started dating Max. There were no hard feelings, of course, but still, Mike couldn’t help the wave of sadness every time he felt when he watched them together.

(Of course, he now realizes that was just because he had lost his shield, his cover, his excuse , but at the time? God, at the time he thought he’d been heartbroken.)

Will came out two years later. Mike was supportive, so supportive it was almost concerning. Jonathan still eyed him like he was a piece of gum stuck to the bottom of his shoe. That’s never gone away, actually- he doesn’t really know what he’s done to deserve it, but whatever, right? He doesn’t really care. Anyways, back to Will - now that he and El had broken up, he had a lot more time on his hands for his friends, and he was the one who held Will when the first boy broke his heart. His name had been Theo, he remembers, and he’d called Will slurs in class the very day after kissing him for the first time. Will had knocked on his door in the rain, he remembers, and he’d held him tight as he sobbed, thinking to himself, how could a person do this to somebody? Especially somebody as kind, caring or beautiful as Will? That was the moment, he remembers. The moment that changed everything.

The moment he realized he was in love with Will Byers.

Now, he’s nineteen - it’s been two years since his horrific realization, and he’s still terribly in love with Will. Honestly, it doesn’t help that the entire Party goes to the same University, much less that they’re all still roommates. Max and El share a place, while Dustin and Lucas share a flat generously paid for by their parents. And then-

-then there’s Mike. And then there’s Will.

Living with Will is both everything he’s ever wanted and everything that’ll ever scare him. Seeing him walk into the kitchen in the morning, sleepy-eyed and in need of coffee, hair mussed up and soft smiles is perfect. Really, really perfect. But then Mike will get the urge to lean in and smooth down that hair, press a kiss to his forehead, and it’s all so domestic it hurts , especially to know he’ll never have it. He’s close to Will, and yet he’s so, so far, and he keeps telling himself to put some distance between them, but it never works. He’s Romeo, but Will is not Juliet - rather, Will is Rosaline, an idealistic beauty Mike will always want, but one that’ll never look his way.

…wow, he’s gotten off track, hasn’t he? At one point, he was talking about the current situation at hand. He needs to stop rambling. It’s getting bad.

Anyways.

Fake dating is going to make this so much worse, he already knows. Having his dreams come true, only for him to know it’s all fake? Getting to know what it’s like to date Will, knowing what his waist feels like with an arm slipped comfortably around it, knowing what his hair feels like, knowing what his lips feel like- but having to hold himself back from truly knowing any of it. It’s going to be torture.

Especially knowing what Max just told him. 

The entire Party thinks they’ve been meant to be? Since at least middle school? Mike really, really doesn’t know what to do with this information. He’s been struggling with his feelings for Will for years, and he’s been doing it alone - but this whole time, the Party has thought he’s been oblivious and unaware of Will’s feelings for him? No. There’s just no way. They’ve all got it backwards. Will is the one happy and comfortable with their friendship, and Mike is the one left desperately pining, grappling for any crumbs of love he can get. Maybe once, back when he was twelve, he wasn’t always watching Will - maybe it’s true that back then, his eyes never once strayed to his best friend - but everything changed two years ago, that moment when he realized he was painfully, hopelessly in love with him.

He’s never looked away since.

And he knows , for a fact, that Will doesn’t like him back. Like, one-hundred percent. How, you might ask? Well, he’ll tell you, because yeah, he has proof . Factual, irrefutable proof.

Straight from Will’s own mouth.

Eighteen years old, living in residence, being overjoyed at sharing a room with his best friend. Mike and Will had had plenty of sleepovers over the past, but none of that could compare to actually living together. He was over the moon, believe him. It had only been three weeks, but already, it had been awesome. Hanging out and doing homework together, sharing clothes, fitting all their posters up on the walls - it had brought their friendship to a new level, one which Mike absolutely loved .

They were stumbling into the room together, past one in the morning, after a residence party thrown by one of the rowdier residents. Mike was totally drunk, while Will was just a little buzzed - he’s always been better at tolerating his alcohol, despite his smaller stature. They were both laughing as they crashed down on Mike’s bed, shoes still on, and as they stilled, their eyes met. Mike remembers the lack of space between them. The way he felt - all he had to do was lean in, and their lips would have met. He remembers wondering if Will had felt the same way.

“You know, I could kiss you right now. Did you know that?” The words had spilled from his mouth, unwanted and unbidden. “It could happen, Will. I could make it happen.”

The look that had flashed across Will’s face at that suggestion gave him his answer. Shock, anger, disgust, and most importantly, deep, deep sadness. He’d made a mistake. Something he got the feeling would never be able to be fixed.

“Go to sleep, Mike,” he had finally whispered. “You’re being an asshole again. It’s mean, what you’re saying. Just go to sleep, and we’ll pretend this conversation never happened, okay?” His hand was threading through his hair. It made him feel warm and fluffy inside. When his hand pulled away Mike almost cried, but not as much as when Will stood up, crossing the room and dropping into his own bed.

Mike had never had a more lonely sleep, he remembers. And when he’d woken up the next morning? He could see the conversation as though it was happening at that very moment. He’s never forgotten that conversation, and he doesn’t think he ever will.

So. Yeah. He and Will are never going to actually happen.

That won’t ever stop Mike from loving him, though. It’s just impossible to say no to Will. God, he knows he should have - this fake dating won’t end in anything other than disaster for him - but really, he can’t help it. He’s in love, and he’ll take whatever form of Will he can get, even if it’s fake.

…he’s got it bad, doesn’t he?

♡ ♡ ♡

When Mike gets back from the milkshake shop, Will is already back, sitting at the counter, arms stretching to the edge of the surface and tugging beneath it. He sits up like he’s just been struck by lightning the second Mike’s face appears in the doorway. Mike tries to calm his racing heart and kicks his shoes off as nonchalantly as possible. 

“Hey,” Will says nervously. He rubs his palms together. “Didn’t realize you were out when I got back.”

“Yeah, sorry, I was with Max,” he explains, equally as awkward. “I, uh, figured it would look less suspicious if she heard it from me, rather than from El.”

Will frowns. “Wait, so you told her?”

Mike bristles, even though he knows Will didn’t intend to be confrontational. “Is there a problem with that?”

“No, I just… it’s fine, we just hadn’t spoken yet.”

“Well, we’re talking now.”

“Okay, you’re doing it again,” Will warns. “You’re being an asshole, Mike. Are you mad about this? Because- I mean, it’s fine if you are, we can just pretend it was a prank, but don’t be an asshole just because you can. It’s not fair to me.”

God, Mike loves Will so much.

Nobody understands him, or the way he functions, like Will does. He can be an asshole, he knows that. He tries to stop himself, really, he does, but sometimes, it’s just so hard , he doesn’t know how to handle it. The college psychologist he had to see for a few months last year claimed that he used his ‘assholery’ as a shield, to deflect from the way he’s really feeling. Part of growing up in a household with such reservations about love can lead to unstable emotion outlets, she had said. It can lead to people growing up and bottling up their emotions, pushing others away or keeping them at a distance so that they won’t ever get hurt. Mike had scoffed. He’d laughed, ran out of there as fast as possible, then sat in the shower for an hour, shaking, as he thought about it. So maybe she’d been right. So what? The only person who Mike ever needed to understand him gets it. That’s enough for him.

He takes a deep breath. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Thanks for letting me know, Will.”

That familiar smile is back, and Will shrugs. “It’s no problem. What best friends are for, am I right?”

“Right,” he replies, pushing down the nausea rising at those two words. “We won’t be friends for the next little bit, though. At least in front of others. We should… talk about it? Boundaries? I don’t fucking know, I’m just throwing out words here.”

Will nods, suddenly all business. “Yeah, yeah. Boundaries would be good. We’re just doing this for a few weeks, right? Just to show people that I’m okay, and that we’re both good, and then we’ll break it off, and go back to being friends. Nice and simple.”

“Yeah. That sounds good. When I was talking to Max, I described it as- I dunno, casual? You know, not a big deal. So that it’s not as big a deal when we break up.”

Break up . Those words leave a sour taste in his mouth.

“That’s genius, Mike!” Will is grinning. “Casual. I like it. We’re very casual, you and I.” They make eye contact, and before long, they’re both laughing, doubled over at the stomachs, tears leaking out of Mike’s eyes. He doesn’t even know what’s so funny. Maybe it’s the idea of them (more specifically Mike) ever being casual. Maybe it’s the absurdity of the situation, Mike doesn’t know. All he knows is that after the craziness of today, it feels nice to laugh with Will again.

“The most casual,” he says, calming down. “As for what we’re like in front of other people… I dunno, maybe just like hand holding, or sitting together, arms around waists, that kind of stuff? We don’t need to be super overt with it or anything. Maybe we- maybe we can even get through this without- you know, without kissing.”

For the record: Mike does not want to get through this without kissing.

“Yeah, that sounds- good.” Will nods. This conversation is so awkward, Mike almost doesn’t want to have it, even though it’s necessary. He knows it’s necessary. He’d never survive without rules. “If we have to, though, I just want to make sure- I have your consent, right?”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Mike replies, maybe a bit too enthusiastic. He tries to tone it down, to come off as casually as he can. “I got yours?”

“Yeah, you do.”

They both go silent. Mike doesn’t know what Will’s thinking about, but he can tell you what single track his mind is currently on: what kissing Will might feel like. How soft his lips are, how he might fit around Mike, the way his hair feels… of course, Mike’s out, but he’s still a little reserved about his sexuality (thanks, Ted), and he’s never actually been with a guy before, not like Will has. Of course, it’s not like this is his first time thinking about it, thinking about Will , but now, with the prospect of it actually happening - fake, but still happening - he’s going into a little bit of shock.

“Well, that was a fun conversation,” Will says, breaking the silence. “Wanna watch the Greatest Showman again?”

“Oh god, absolutely,” Mike replies, moving to grab the popcorn before Will can even ask him to. They move as though one, in sync, always knowing what the other is doing. It’s always Will and Mike, Mike and Will.

He really, really hopes this won’t change that.

♡ ♡ ♡

“Mike!” El cries out, a bright smile on her face as she pulls him into a hug. “I have missed you!”

“El!” He says, equally large grin splitting across his face as he holds her tight. “My favourite superhero! How’ve you been?”

She giggles, arms tightening around his waist. “Fine, but I’m better now that you’re here,” she says. “Did I mention I missed you?”

“Wow, nice to see you too, sis,” Will rolls his eyes, stepping up through the doorway. “I appreciate the warm welcome.”

“Will!” She gasps. “You two actually came together! I thought you weren’t being serious!”

Mike looks to his left, eyes meeting Will’s, and fights a smile. In a big, theatrical motion, he extends a hand out, bowing slightly. Will, laughing silently, places his hand in Mike’s, and he pulls him tight before dipping him down. He knew taking those ballroom classes as a kid would pay off, even if Nancy made fun of him for it.

“Incredible performance, you two,” Max says, slow clapping. “Just tone down the PDA for the party, ‘kay? Nobody wants to see your skinny ass making out, Mike.”

“Why am I the one getting singled out?”

Will laughs, big and hearty, and Mike can feel it through his hands, one on his wrist and the other balancing his back. It shocks him so much he almost drops him. Wow, it’s been barely three minutes and he’s already struggling.

This is going to be hard .

“I missed you both so much,” Will says, voice warm and soft, and god, Mike wants to kiss him so bad, wants to move his arms up from his back to swing around his neck and pull him in close and just kiss him, wants to shrink him down and stick him in his pocket and carry him around with him forever and ever and ever, never letting go because Will is his , and nobody deserves him, not even Mike, but surely he’s the best-case scenario, right? Surely he’s the best Will could possibly get, because he appreciates him, hell, he even loves him-

“Mike?” Will’s voice pulls him back to reality, fighting more laughter. “Whatcha starin at?”

Oh, shit, he thinks dumbly, I just spent the last 30 seconds staring at Will’s lips.

Oh, wait.

He can do that now, can’t he? Technically? Nobody will think it’s weird, right?

Nobody except for Will.

Oh, god, he’s in deep shit.

“Your beauty astounds me, my dearest,” he says, somehow smoothing his voice over. “Just admiring a priceless sight.”

El claps her hands excitedly, Max rolls her eyes in exasperation, and Will-

Wait.

Is that red? On Will’s cheeks?

“Yeah, whatever, idiot,” he mutters, tightening his grip on Mike’s hand. “We’re gonna go enjoy the party before you say any more dumb things, okay?” They both wave goodbye to El and Max, and continue into the apartment. Will is still muttering under his breath, to Mike’s immense delight. “I mean, you’re not even drunk, why are you acting so stupid? Maybe Lucas and Dustin can set you straight, since you’ve apparently decided to terrorize me…”

Mike loves him so, so much.

“Will! Mike! Good to see you,” Lucas says, smile blinding as he holds two drinks in his hands. Mike doesn’t know where he came from. Maybe he just materialized, he has no idea- sometimes, it seems like Lucas does that. “Heard that you guys finally got your shit together.” He pats Mike’s arm. “It was about time.”

“Did everybody think we were going to get together?” Mike scowls. “Seriously, this is insane!”

Will chuckles, dropping Mike’s hand to grab a drink. “You do know they had bets, right?”

“They had WHAT?”

“Hey, how’d you know about the bets?” Dustin frowns, popping up from a mysterious, unknown place, too. “They were supposed to be secret!”

Will sighs. “I lived in the same house as El, you really think I wouldn’t find out about them?”

“At least Mike never knew,” Lucas laughs. “Man, you would’ve totally blown your shit about that, wouldn’t you? At least now you’re seeing things properly. You and Will are meant to be, and always have been, period. It’s just unfortunate it took this long.”

“Is this conversation not making you uncomfortable?” He says, gesturing to Will. “This is literally just a casual relationship! Nothing serious, like, at all. We’re just… you know, exploring options, and such. Geez, everyone’s acting like this is true love or some shit. It’s literally just a casual thing.” He can’t stop saying the word casual. Casual, casual, casual. It’s better than reminding him that this whole thing is actually just fake , when he wants nothing more than for it to be real.

Maybe he’d gone a little overboard, though, in his description of their casualness. Both Lucas and Dustin are eyeing him strangely, and Will’s expression is slightly subdued. He swallows thickly. He’s been at this for not even a night, and he’s already the asshole boyfriend, isn’t he? Wow, he is so bad at this. 

“Sorry, I guess I came off a little strong, right?” He chuckles awkwardly. “Um, all I mean is we’re taking this one step at a time. Right, Will?” He reaches down and squeezes Will’s hand. I’m sorry, he tries to say. He really, really hopes Will gets it.

Will squeezes back, and thank god, they’re okay. “Yeah. We’re casual, if you can believe it,” he says, huffing out a laugh. “Slow and simple.”

“Okay…” Dustin says, frowning again. “If you say so.”

“Will, mind coming with me and Dustin?” Lucas says, voice slightly clipped. “There’s something we’ve been meaning to ask you.” Alone , he doesn’t need to say - the message is as clear as day. Mike’s hand tightens around Will’s. He really, really doesn’t want to let go.

But Will does. Obviously, he does - to him, none of this is real. Why would he care? “Sure,” he replies, letting go of Mike’s hand. “I’ll see you later, okay, Mike? Don’t drink too much, or else I’ll have to carry you home.”

Mike nods, a lump forming in his throat. “Okay. Bye, I guess,” he says, turning around and walking off, not bothering to hear their replies. He doesn’t want to watch them go, leaving him behind, arms around Will’s back, whispering in his ears. He avoids people everywhere, just trying to find somewhere to go where he’ll be alone, where he’ll be able to let the tears burning his eyes just- fall, where he can deal with his stupid, dumb emotions in private. Since apparently, not a single one of his friends cares about him - all they care about is Will, Will, Will.

He doesn’t blame them. He wouldn’t care about himself, either. He’s an asshole, and Will is goodness incarnate. He doesn’t deserve his friends.

(He doesn’t deserve Will, either.)

He finds El’s closet, the one she always uses for privacy when she’s having panic attacks, the one Mike helped her decorate when she first moved in. He’s got a special key for it, one with a dinosaur keychain- he’s the only one with a key, a feat he’s proud of. El got it for him, along with a handwritten note, decorated with hearts. He barely manages to unlock it with shaky hands before the tears begin to fall. He misses El so, so much. He misses the way they used to be, young and dumb and more best friends than in love, neither one of them bound by the stupid logics of life. She’s probably the one he feels the most connected to, out of the entire party. She’ll always be there for him, his platonic soulmate, his rock forever and ever.

He could really, really use her help right now.

His hands are still shaking as he picks up his phone and texts her. He feels stupid and selfish, asking for her help during her own party, but she’s been gone for two weeks, and he really really needs somebody he can trust, so.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. How stupid could he possibly be, thinking he could ever do this with Will? He loves him so much it scares him, like he’s standing on the edge of a chasm that grows bigger and bigger with every day, threatening to engulf him completely. It’s the first day of their fake dating arrangement and already, he’s managed to make himself sound like an uncaring asshole to Lucas and Dustin, a complete and utter lovesick doofus to El and Max, and- he doesn’t even know how to describe what Will must be thinking about him right now. He just keeps messing up, left and right, and he’s finally hit his breaking point. This was such a mistake. He can’t do it anymore, he can’t do it, not with his own emotions and Will’s distinct lack of them. It’s too hard, it hurts too much, and he’s not strong enough- he’s weak, and he’s pathetic, and he’s a coward, and he’s-

“Mike!”

El. Her face, worried, caring. She’s like his saviour, swooping in to help him, always ready to protect him. His own superhero. He’s always thought of her as super, cool and kind and so, so much love within her. He doesn’t know if he’s ever loved her more than this moment.

“Mike, what happened?” She drops down next to him, pulling his head down onto her lap, stroking his hair. “Are you alright?”

“I can’t do it,” he whispers. “I can’t do it, El. I like him too much. I can’t do it. I can’t do this, not the way we’re doing it…” he can’t tell her the truth. He can’t. He can only sit in her arms and cry, all about the boy he loves a little too much.

“It’s okay, Mike,” she begins. “It’s normal to like him. You’re dating, aren’t you? These feelings are normal, believe me,” she sighs, a wistful smile on her face. “Everything is going to be just fine. Over time, you’ll figure it out. Both of you will.”

She’s so wise. Mike loves her. But she doesn’t understand, because he can’t tell her.

“It’s not okay, though. I like him, El,” he says again. “I like him more than he likes me. And I just have to sit there and pretend that it’s equal, that it’s okay, that we’re not both just- living a lie. I can’t do it, really, I can’t.”

She sits. Pauses. Tries to understand his sentences, even though he’s not making sense, he knows he’s not. He feels bad. El doesn’t deserve this.

“And how do you know?” she says, finally. “How do you know you like him more?”

“I just- I just do, El,” he sniffles. “I do, and I wish I didn’t, because maybe then, I wouldn’t feel so bad. Maybe then, we could have been happy.” It’s a lie. There’s no version of this where they end happily. No course of events that end with them together. Lucas said that they were meant to be. Mike thinks they’re more like trains, moving on parallel tracks, destined to never meet, always so close but never actually touching. There’s a kind of beauty to their tragedy, he thinks. The kind of beauty he’d write about in one of his stories.

She wraps her arms around him, never stopping to smooth down his hair. “I think you should keep yourself open, Mike. You never truly know what others are thinking. Maybe he wants the same thing you do, and you’ll never know it if you never speak to him.” She gives him a soft smile. “I think you should try talking to him. You know I’d never wish harm on either of you. Just remember, I’m your biggest supporter, okay? And I’ll always be in your corner.”

Really, he asks himself, what would he ever do without El?

“You think so?” He hasn’t felt this vulnerable in ages. It doesn’t make him feel bad, though, not the way it would have used to.

“I really do.” Deep down, he can feel his inner child relaxing. Her fingers feel so nice in his hair.

And, deep down, he knows she’s right.

♡ ♡ ♡

Mike runs into Lucas and Dustin first.

“Hey,” he says, frowning. “Where’s Will? Wasn’t he talking with you guys?”

“He said he was gonna go find you,” Dustin replies. “Where’ve you been, dude? Nobody’s seen you in ages.”

“I distinctly remember you guys telling me to fuck off, so,” he replies, crossing his arms. So what if he’s angry? So what if he’s being an asshole? Will isn’t here to keep him in check, and besides, he thinks this is justified. “Sorry if I haven’t been making myself visible.”

“We’re sorry if we made it seem like we didn’t want you around,” Lucas says, a sad look crossing his face. “We just wanted to make sure everything was going okay with you two. We figured it would be easier to hear it from just one of you.” It’s bullshit, and they both know it, but Mike doesn’t call them out, even though he wants to. He knows that they didn’t do it maliciously. They’re his friends, have been for years; they would never do something like that to him.

“It’s okay,” he says, forcing a fake smile. Judging by the way their faces fall, they can tell it’s fake. “What, uh, what did you guys end up talking about?”

They exchange glances. A weird form of understanding passes between them. “We just wanted to make sure both of you wanted the same thing, you know?” Dustin says. “You said it was casual, and like, barely anything at all, and we just wanted to make sure that was what Will wanted, too.”

“I know I made it seem like you two were destined to get married and get cats and live happily ever after, and I’m sorry if that freaked you out, okay?” Lucas says, his expression worried, and it warms Mike’s heart, because his friends do care, and El was right, and things might turn out okay after all. “We just want what’s best for both of you, because we love you guys, and we just want you to be happy. You’re not mad, right?”

“Nah, it’s all good,” Mike grins, and this time, it’s real. “Seriously, though, I do need to talk to Will.”

“Last time I saw him, he was by the punch bowl,” Dustin says. “Good luck. I mean it.”

Mike walks away with a heart less heavy than he arrived with. Knowing that his friends don’t actually hate him is a warm, warm feeling.

To his surprise and utter concern, Will is… still at the punch bowl. He’s leaning lazily against the wall, empty cup in his hand, staring at it with morose sadness. He doesn’t seem to notice Mike at all, which is good, because it gives him the excuse to creep up with menacing fingers and-

“Boo!” he yells, and Will actually squeaks, jumping around right into Mike’s chest. The two clumsily fall into the wall behind them, and Mike can’t stop laughing, and Will’s face is so close, and Jesus Christ, he never wants to leave this moment ever, ever, ever.

“Mike!” Will braces himself against the wall, not moving away from Mike’s face. “Don’t scare me like that, you just gave me a heart attack!”

This just makes him laugh even harder. “You- oh my god, you made a squeak, like a door hinge! Help me, please, I can’t breathe, oh my god that was so funny-”

“It really was not that funny,” Will protests, but there’s a smile in the corner of his lips. “Where have you been?”

“Oh, I was chatting away with El,” he replies dismissively. “Just super fun, lovely times. Where’ve you been, loverboy?” The nickname just slipped out, he swears. Maybe he’s had too much to drink, even though he’s only had two drinks - he’s always had low tolerance, though. In any case, he did not mean to say that, and his cheeks definitely darken, but so do Will’s, which feels like a victory, even though it absolutely should not. That is, until a look crosses Will’s face, eerily reminiscent of that look from last year, when all of Mike’s dreams had been shattered. It makes him feel ill.

“Don’t call me that,” Will says quietly, “And I was looking for you, idiot. After talking to Lucas and Dustin.”

“Oh, yeah? And how’d that talk go, hm?” He’s being a bit asshole-y, he can tell, but he can’t stop. “Have any fun discussions about me?”

Will scowls. “Stop it, you’re being annoying. And, as a matter of fact, we did. Lucas and Dustin were pissed you called us ‘casual’, since they think that we’re really dating. Honestly, Mike, if you want this to succeed, you have to at the very least pretend to like me, got it? Sure, we’re not actually dating, but you can act, can’t you?”

“What- oh, so this is my fault, then?” He’s angry, blindingly angry, and this is not how this was supposed to go, but Will’s words make him just- so, so mad, he can’t take it. “I’m to blame for this? Did we not decide to make it casual? How are we gonna break up and not destroy the Party if we’re in a serious relationship?”

“No, it can be casual, just- just fucking act like you like me, Mike!” Will’s voice is raised, just like Mike’s, and he can hear the frustration bleeding through it. “You just need to act like you’re not repulsed by me even being near you!”

“Repulsed? You think I’m repulsed by being near you?” The fact that Will could even say something like that is so, so hurtful, because Mike loves Will, he loves him so much it’s hard to breathe sometimes, he loves him so much his chest heaves every time he walks into a room, he loves him so much it’s almost impossible to function sometimes. “I’m not the one repulsed! If anything, you’re the one disgusted by me, and by everything I say!”

“What- how could you even pull that conclusion from all this?” Will hisses, and suddenly, Mike’s aware of just how close his face still is, just how close his body is, how tight the air is, how uncomfortable this position is. “I have done nothing but care about you, for our entire lives! You’re the one who ignored me for years, who ditched our whole friendship for a girl you didn’t even like, who didn’t even care when I had my heart broken!”

Mike frowns. “That is not true! None of that is true, Will, so take it back right now. I didn’t ignore you because I wanted to, I did it because I was scared! I was fucking scared, okay? I didn’t know how to act or how to live or how to do anything , and I won’t let you blame me for that! And I cared when you had your heart broken. What are you talking about? I was there for Theo, and I was there for Sebastian! I have done nothing but support you, okay? So don’t act as though I’m the bad guy here!”

And Will said nothing. He just stared. Their faces were so close, Mike could have just leaned forwards and their lips would have met. But Will was just staring at him, unblinking, eyes so big and so fucking sad he couldn’t take it. He’d messed up. He’d said something wrong, but he didn’t know what. This felt almost worse than their drunken conversation a year ago. Because this time, he doesn’t even know what went wrong- 

-and he’s one hundred percent sure it’s his fault.

“If you can’t even understand what you’re missing, Mike, then I’m afraid there’s nothing to do,” he says sadly. “It’s okay. I didn’t expect you to understand. After all, you never have. What if- what if we just move on, yeah? Just pretend everything is okay?” His lower chin begins to wobble, and his eyes shine silver with unshed tears, and Mike just wants to make him feel better, but he can’t , because he’s the one who caused this whole fucking mess. “We’re pretending to date already. Why don’t we just pretend everything is okay? Nothing went wrong. We’re okay. Right?”

And Mike nods, even though he doesn’t want to, even though he doesn’t quite get what’s going on. “Right… we’re okay.” 

Deep down, he knows they’re not.

“Okay. Okay, that’s- that’s good.” Will steps away, and Mike wants him to come back, wants him to wrap his arms around him and hold him tight, but that’ll never happen. “I’ll see you later, okay? I’m going back. You stay, though. Stay for El.”

“Will, wait-” he starts, but he’s already pushed through the halls, gone and out of Mike’s sight.

In a way, it feels like a goodbye.

Like an ending.

♡ ♡ ♡

Life goes on.

As much as it surprises Mike, it continues, in a way that’s almost normal. His friendship with Lucas and Dustin is okay. He goes out for milkshakes with Max, and they squabble and bicker over everything in sight. He goes poster shopping with El, and they both burst out laughing when the cashier calls them a cute couple. He calls Nancy, who congratulates him on his new relationship, and berates him for not telling her himself. He receives a drawing from Holly, which gets stuck to the fridge. 

He continues (fake) dating Will.

In public, it’s okay. They’re okay. They hold hands, they laugh at each other’s jokes, they walk with their shoulders brushing against each other. Mike stops calling their relationship casual, and Will skillfully evades any kissing inquiries the Party makes. In public, they’re the perfect couple.

In their apartment, everything falls apart. 

They never speak anymore. Will is always gone, the only reminiscents of him small sticky notes or doodles, covering leftover food or cleaning supplies or bills. Mike rewatches the Greatest Showman by himself. Will holes himself up in his room, claiming homework. It’s saddening, and Mike misses Will so, so much. He wants to fix this hole in their relationship, but he doesn’t even know what he did , or what Will was even talking about. He thinks about it constantly. What did he mean by that? What is it that Mike can’t figure out?

If you can’t even understand what you’re missing, Mike, then I’m afraid there’s nothing to do.

But he wants to. He wants to so, so badly. Was Will talking about another heartbreak? Did somebody other than Theo and Sebastian break his heart? If so, who? Mike needs to know. He can’t continue on this loop of sadness, especially not as their breakup date draws closer and closer.

So he asks the one person he knows will answer his questions.

“You want me, Maxine Mayfield, to tell you, Michael Wheeler, who Will’s had his heart broken by? Shouldn’t you already know this?” She frowns. “Scratch that, it’s not a question. You should know this. I’m really disappointed in you.”

“I do! I do know,” he protests, “or at least I think I do. I’ve got Theo, I’ve got Sebastian, and that’s it, right? Will was being cryptic the other day by making it seem like there was another one. There wasn’t, though, right?”

Max stares at him in shock.

Okay, so. There’s definitely another one.

“Did you two not talk about this when you got together?” she says, mystified. “Really? I totally thought he would have brought it up with you!”

“Brought what up?”

“...wow. I actually can’t believe you, Wheeler.” She scoffs. “Will’s third heartbreak? Way more important than the other two, and honestly, the only one that really mattered to him? You seriously can’t use your brain and figure it out?”

He’s so confused right now. “Why would I be able to figure it out? Will hasn’t been interested in anybody other than those two! How am I supposed to know the answer to this? And why do you?”

She rolls her eyes. “Holy shit, this is sad. He’s interested in you, Mike. You guys are dating, for fuck’s sake, obviously you guys are interested in each other! And you broke his heart in high school, you really did! Nobody told you, obviously, because we wanted to protect Will’s privacy, but we almost couldn’t believe it, you know? It seemed like you might’ve liked him back, in grade nine, but you were so painfully straight at the time it was a moot point. Now, though, you’ve come to your senses, and he still didn’t tell you about this? And you still weren’t able to figure it out?”

No.

No, no, no.

This can’t be happening. There is no possible way this is happening.

It all makes sense now. He can see it all so clearly in his mind, a map of all the moments he’s experienced that have led up to this. So many moments where he didn’t understand, but he should have, and he really, really can’t believe this, but it’s the truth, isn’t it?

God, it’s been a painful six years, watching you two dance around each other like fucking idiots.

Max has been trying to tell him, hasn’t she? This whole time, she’s been telling him, and he just didn’t get it.

You never truly know what others are thinking. Maybe he wants the same thing you do, and you’ll never know it if you never speak to him.

God, El. She knew, too, she knew everything, and she thought he knew, too, didn’t she? She thought he knew, so she never outright told him.

You said it was casual, and like, barely anything at all, and we just wanted to make sure that was what Will wanted, too.

Oh, no. Lucas and Dustin. No wonder they pulled Will aside to talk to them. God, to them he must seem like such an asshole, doesn’t he? They thought he knew. They thought he knew, and he still acted the way he did, said the things he said.

No, it can be casual, just- just fucking act like you like me, Mike! You just need to act like you’re not repulsed by me even being near you!

And Will. Oh, Will.

He has so much to say sorry for, doesn’t he?

The whole time. The entire fucking time, he’s thought he was alone in his feelings. That when he’d discovered them back when he was seventeen, that he was going through the worst pain in the entire world, the worst situation anybody could ever experience. Will couldn’t possibly understand the heartbreak he was going through. Nobody could.

To learn that Will does understand, has been understanding for- for at least six years? It’s enough to make him nauseous. He can’t think about it. He can’t do it.

“Max,” he whispers, feeling hollowed out and empty. “Max. Will and I aren’t actually dating.”

And she looks at him, really looks at him, and she understands. Her face pales. “No. No.”

He swallows, throat dry. “Yeah. Um. We just wanted El to stop worrying about Will, you know?”

“So you guys have just been lying for two weeks now?”

“Yeah. I didn’t… I didn’t know. Will actually liked me.”

She lets out a breath, expression worried and upset. “Oh, shit. Oh god no. I just spilled his deepest secret to the one person he said not to tell. Shit, shit, shit- can you pretend you didn’t hear any of that? Please?”

He pushes the chair back, standing up quickly. He can’t see. His mind is swimming. His brain isn’t functioning properly, too many thoughts and emotions crowding together that he’s breaking down, but there’s one thing he can see, clear in his mind’s eye: Will, Will, Will.

Will.

“I need to go see him,” he says quickly. “Max, I need to find him. Please. Do you know where he is?”

“Uh-” she fumbles with her phone. “Um, I think he’s studying with El back at our place? He might have left, though, so I would-”

“Thanks,” he says, already pulling his coat on. “I’ll pay you back for the milkshake.”

Then he’s gone, heading for the door, not caring about what Max’s response is. He needs to find Will, before it’s too late.

He needs to fix what he’s broken.

♡ ♡ ♡

Straight.

That’s what Mike identified as, throughout his entire high school career. Back when he still lived under Ted Wheeler’s roof, and while his friends had all come out and he had no problems with them being gay, it was still a struggle for him to accept himself .

They asked him, sometimes. About it. He would always panic and deny it intensely. Like, really, really intensely. As in he sounded almost homophobic with how much he would deny it. Which wasn’t too far off, really - he was dealing with lots of internalized homophobia, and it wasn’t until he moved out and went to university that he was finally able to come to terms with his own sexuality, and what that meant in terms of himself. Max was the one who helped him come out. And while he is by no means an experienced or particularly proud member of the LGBTQ+ community, he’s come a long way from where he started, and he’s happy with his own progress.

But learning this new information about Will? Well… let’s just say a lot of that progress has been erased in a matter of minutes.

He feels horrible.

How did he never notice? All those times, during high school, when he claimed he was straight, that he would never like a guy. How did he never notice Will? He can see it all now, memories he’d pushed away because they hurt too much. Will, eyes watery, trying not to let the tears fall. Will, apologizing constantly, seeming sometimes afraid of Mike. Will, crying in El’s arms, shaking his head every time Mike tried to help. All of it- because of him.

God, he’s a terrible person, isn’t he? Really, really terrible. He’s been hurting his best friend - and the person he’s in love with - for years . And he had no fucking clue.

He reaches El and Max’s apartment in less than twenty minutes. Did he run the whole way there? Maybe. Is he a terrible runner with no athletic stamina? Also maybe. Is he now currently bent over and wheezing, face redder than a tomato?

Absolutely. But it doesn’t stop him from ringing the doorbell.

“Hi, what can I-” El’s voice stops short. “Mike? What happened? Why are you so… did you run here?”

“I need-” he pauses, still trying to catch his breath. “Is Will here?”

Something dawns in El’s expression, something very close to understanding. Of course she would; she was there when Mike broke down at the party, and she’s Will’s sister, for god’s sake. Of course she of all people would know something is very, very wrong. “He is here,” she whispers softly. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No, no. This is your apartment, El. I wouldn’t dare.” He smiles, despite the situation. Can- can you tell him I’ll be on the roof?”

She nods, mirroring his smile, sad and grateful all in one. “Good luck, Mike. I hope you achieve what you want to achieve.”

He loves her so much. Resisting the urge to pull her into a hug, he nods, before stepping back from the door, turning to the flight of stairs directly on his left.

There’s been many nights he’s spent up on the roof of El and Max’s building. It’s a stunning place, where he, Will and El like to throw down blankets and talk for hours. He heads up there now, hands trembling and nerves alight with fear and anticipation. He doesn’t know what’s going to happen, and he’s not sure he wants to.

Footsteps echo behind him. He tenses.

Will.

“Hey,” he says, voice soft and face impossibly softer as he joins Mike. 

“Hi,” he replies, an unwanted blush rising on his cheeks. “Um. Thanks for coming up. I know this is… short notice.”

Will grins. “El told me you ran here.”

“Hey! It wasn’t that bad, I came here from the milkshake place!”

Will laughs, and it’s such a comforting sound, something he’s been missing these last two weeks. It makes him want to cry. For Mike, home has been a hard thing to define. It’s certainly not Hawkins, with its conservative residents and his china porcelain family. It’s not Nancy and Jonathan’s apartment, no matter how much time he spends crashing there. It’s not even his current apartment, even though his stuff is strewn everywhere. No, for Mike, home is a person , and it always has been. Somebody with paint-flecked fingers and stained jeans. Somebody who dreams of making comics, somebody who’s the best Cleric he’s ever seen. Somebody whose very laugh is enough to make his eyes well with tears. For Mike?

Will is home.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly, and just like that, their light-hearted mood collapses. “Will, I need you to know, I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, Will.”

He’s quiet for a moment. He just sits and stares out at the setting sun and for a moment, Mike is terrified. Terrified that this isn’t going to go the way he wants it to, at all.

“For what?” he says, eventually. It’s such an easy question Mike almost sighs in relief.

“For- for everything. I’m such an idiot. I’m an oblivious, selfish idiot who doesn’t care about anybody other than himself, and I was an asshole to you for years and you deserve so much better than me. Honestly, I don’t even deserve to be your best friend. I spent so much time just- just being the biggest asshole in the world and subconsciously rejecting you the whole time, and I regret it so much, and god, Will, if I could take anything back it would be the way that I treated you, because you didn’t deserve it. You deserve the world, and I wish more than anything else that I could be the one to give it to you. But I can’t.”

Dead silence. Mike’s eyes are squeezed shut. He’s too scared to open them.

“So you know, then? You know- you know how I feel?” Will’s voice is small. Like he’s still too scared to say it out loud. Mike doesn’t blame him.

“Max told me,” he whispers. “By accident. She thought I already knew.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“So… I’m guessing you want to have that fake breakup now, then.” Will’s voice has gone cold. “Do you want me to move out? Do you even still want to be friends? I won’t blame you if you don’t want to ever speak to me again. I’ll try to make things with the Party as normal as possible.”

Mike is floored.

“What? Why- what?”

“You just said you can’t, Mike.” His voice is raised now. “You literally just said you know, and you can’t, and that you’ve been rejecting me for years. Sorry if I’m not taking this super well.”

Oh god. This is so not how this was supposed to be going.

“No, wait, Will, that’s not what I meant-”

“I’m gonna go pack an overnight bag. Don’t worry, I’ll be staying at El’s for the next little while. Just tell the others we broke up, or something. I don’t care.”

Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no. No. This can’t be happening. Not after Mike can finally see what he wants, it’s running away from him. How did it go so wrong? And so fast? He doesn’t understand. He can’t understand. How is he supposed to make Will understand? He wants him. He wants him.

“Will, you’ve got it all wrong. Just- wait! Will, come on, don’t be like this, I just wanna-” He slumps over, the sentence half finished, watching with defeated eyes as Will runs down the stairs.

Fuck.

He is so not used to this much running.

♡ ♡ ♡

Will has the advantage of a car. He’s already zooming out of the parking lot by the time Mike makes it to El and Max’s door. He’ll never make it on foot (plus he doesn’t think he has the stamina for it), so he knocks on their door loudly, hoping one of them will be able to give him a lift.

It’s Max who rips open the door, annoyance in her expression, but it quickly morphs to surprise, then concern, then anger when she spots Mike.

“How did you possibly lose him?” She shouts angrily. “Don’t lie, I can see it in your face, Wheeler. Fucking idiot.”

“I just need your car, Max,” he begs. “Please. I can’t let him get away again or I think I might never fix things.” She must see the desperation in his expression, or something, because she sighs, slipping on her shoes and grabbing her keys.

“Let’s go,” she grumbles. “You’re lucky I care about your dumb ass, Mike.”

“Yeah, yeah, you love me,” he says hurriedly as they jump in the elevator. “Now turn that love into gas and we’ll be set.” Max rolls her eyes but doesn’t say anything else, and they make it to her car faster than Mike thinks he’s ever moved. Will is at their shared apartment, there’s not a single doubt about it; probably packing a bag. He’s always been an efficient packer. Mike just hopes they make it in time. The two apartments are probably less than twenty minutes apart, but Will’s got a five-minute head start, if not more. Not to mention Mike is a lot slower than him. Max is a fast driver, but nothing matches up to Will when he’s angry. Mike can still remember when they were kids and Will was yelling at him over his relationship with El, and how fast he’d managed to run. Will has always been good at running and hiding.

Luckily, nobody’s better at finding him than Mike.

When they pull into the parking lot, it’s almost empty - except for a beat up red car at the other end. It’s very, very familiar - filled with the most random junk, and where a lot of his happy memories have been formed. Will’s car . He wilts in relief. He’s not too late.

“Thanks for the ride,” he says, hopping out of Max’s car. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“You can make it up to me by fixing your stupid relationship,” Max says. “What are you still doing here? Go!”

And Mike runs .

He runs like he’s never run before. He runs like he doesn’t have a care in the world, like he’s the lightest person on the earth. He runs the way his dad always wanted him to, when the baseball was thrown far into the outfield and all he could do was stand still. He runs like there’s nothing that could possibly be more important than reaching his destination. And to Mike? Nothing is more important than fixing things with Will. 

He makes it to their apartment in record time. After fumbling with the keys a bit, his shaking hands are able to slam the door open… to complete and utter silence. Will’s shoes, however, sit messily by the entrance, not properly on the shoe mat - they never are.

“Will?” He calls out. “Will, where are you? Come on, I just wanna talk. I’m sorry, I went about that conversation so, so badly. Can I have a chance to try again? Please?”

There’s no answer. He’s not really surprised. Will knows he’s here, of course - they’ve been friends their whole lives, Will knows Mike like the back of his hand, and this is the most typical Mike move ever - but he won’t acknowledge it until he absolutely has to. Mike isn’t fazed. He knows what he needs to do, what he needs to say. He just needs to spit it out this time, before Will can run away again. He kicks his own shoes off, catching his breath, before moving into the apartment.

“Will, I’m not gonna stop shouting your name until I find you,” he says, walking down the hall and to Will’s room at the end. “Believe me, that was not at all what I wanted to say before. You’ve got the totally wrong idea. I’m not sorry because I’m rejecting you. Well- I am, I guess, but I’m not even here to reject- you know what, never mind. This is still not working out the way it was supposed to. Um, I guess the main thing I was apologizing for was how long it took me to realize how you felt about me? And also for how dumb I was being, considering I was going through the exact same thing as you. This whole time. Since high school, and maybe even middle school. Elementary? Maybe even then.”

He stops in the open doorway of Will’s room, watching with a small smile as his vicious packing slows to a stop. As that last sentence starts to make sense in his mind, as he begins to realize what, exactly, Mike’s saying. His smile grows as Will takes a step back, turning around at an infinitesimally slow pace. His eyes are as wide as saucers.

“What do you mean, ‘going through the exact same thing’?” he asks quietly. “You… the whole time you were…”

“A closeted gay with deep internalized homophobia who was in love with his best friend but repressing the emotions so much it came off as rejection and obliviousness and being deeply homophobic?” Mike finishes. “...yeah. That’s pretty much what happened.”

“You… what?” Will seems to be mystified by the conversation they’re currently holding. Mike doesn’t blame him. When Max told him the truth, only, like, an hour ago, he’d stopped working worse than a badly responding web page. To be honest, Will’s handling this a lot better than he did.

“I’ve been in love with you since we were kids, Will,” he says. “I didn’t realize until we turned seventeen, though, and at that point I was so deep in denial, obliviousness and self-hatred I thought it was impossible that you could ever return my feelings. That’s why I was so intent on making sure everybody knew our fake relationship was casual, because I was so desperately in love with you and I didn’t want anybody to find out, because I thought you would all hate me for it, and I thought I would make it too obvious if we had a serious relationship, and I thought that since you asked me to fake date you, there was no way you liked me. Even though everybody else knew, apparently, which is still shocking to me? How did you all keep that secret from me so well, for six years?”

A grin breaks across Will’s face, one full of relief and joy and love, love, love . “You’re a moron, Mike Wheeler,” he says. “A moron I’m in love with, for some dumb reason.”

The dam finally breaks, and the gates flood open.

It takes less than one second for them both to cross the room, crashing into each other’s arms. Will’s arms clutch to his shirt like a lifeline, like there’s nothing else connecting him to the world but Mike, Mike, Mike. Honestly, Mike feels the same way. Will is here, Will is real, a tangible being underneath his skin, hot and prickly to the touch, burning with excitement and love and overwhelming happiness . This is not a dream of his. He’s not going to wake up the next morning with a drowsy melancholy and an aching sadness in his bones. Finally, he can give Will forehead kisses every morning. He can hold hands with him under tables at lunch with the Party. He can buy them matching socks, and they can dress up as Richie Tozier and Eddie Kaspbrak for Halloween and Mike can proudly call him his boyfriend. They can cuddle during movies (not that they don’t already) and they can finally, finally share a room, and convert the extra bedroom into the much-needed art studio Will’s been dreaming about for months. They can live the life they both want them to live. They can live the life they deserve.

There are tears falling onto his cheeks. He laughs wetly, just pulling Will even closer. “I love you,” he gasps, like he’s coming up for air. “I love you, I love you, I love you. You’re it, Will. You’re it for me.”

Will mirrors him, tears soaking into Mike’s shirt. It’s the best feeling he’s ever had. “You’re it for me too, Mike. It’s always been you. I love you, you oblivious, stupid, stubborn idiot. I love you so much.”

They pull apart slightly, Mike resting his forehead against Will’s. “Hey, I wouldn’t say I’m the only dumb one here! You didn’t know I was in love with you either, even though I was kinda unsubtle about it.”

Will rolls his eyes. “Oh, I dunno, maybe that was because all the homophobic comments you kept making really changed my mind about you.”

Mike chuckles. “Okay, so maybe I have a lot to learn. Maybe you could teach me, then?”

Will smiles. “There’s still a lot I need to learn, too. I think this would go better if we learned together, don’t you agree?”

He takes a moment to just breathe . To breathe in this apartment, the room so dearly familiar to him. His own tears, rolling down his cheeks, so human it feels good, feels natural. Will, his flannel shirt a comforting, grounding material. The feeling of Will’s skin, so bloody perfect it’s almost unreal. He breathes it all in. Home. Home .

“Yeah. Together.”