Work Text:
He steps forward, the katana held in his hands trembling softly. A shutter passes through his body as he spots the shadow of his opponent moving swiftly throughout the dull cavern. He scrambles backwards, eyes darting around in a paranoid fashion. The grip of his weapon is slipping through his sweaty hands, vision slowly but surely disappearing untiljhdfshghgfhds
Mike groans, his cramping hands smashing down onto his laptop keyboard with spite. A whole morning lost solely because he can't figure out how to plot his protagonist's climax. His stomach is rumbling and he can't feel his left foot. Scratch that, he can't feel his legs. He supposes that's what he gets for sitting in his bed for– how long has it been?
He drags his hand down his face and picks up his phone, firstly noting that it’s currently 11:09 AM which means its been four hours with no movement, secondly noting he hasn't eaten anything all day and his stomach feels like it's going to rip itself from his organs and walk out the door, and thirdly that he has four missed calls and seven texts from from Nancy. He hesitates before pressing the call button, fully aware that he's most likely to receive an absolute ear-full.
There's a slight sound of rustling before Nancy’s voice rings through. “ Hello?”
“Hey, Nance.” Mike mumbles out, one hand holding the phone to his ear and the other attempting to rub the exhaustion out of his eyes. Turns out staying in bed for hours is more tiring than actually going outside. Or maybe it’s just the fact he hasn't gotten a full night of sleep in a week. “Why were you calling me?”
“It's already fixed now, me and Jon were inviting people out to the movies to celebrate his promotion and wanted to ask if you wanted to join. You didn't reply so we reserved a ticket for you and you're going.” Nancy replies, tongue clicking in a way that says ‘you don't have a choice’
Mike groans, the thought of having to go out after a week as unproductive and exhausting as this one makes him want to crawl into his bed and sink down in the core of the earth. He sucks it up anyways. “When is it? And who's going?” he questions.
“Friday night at–” There's a pause and a soft tapping which Mike assumes is the sound of Nancy checking the tickets . “4:30PM. It’s me, Jonathan, Will, Joyce, El and you, Hopper was going to come but he has work.”
“So basically it’s just the Byers’ family and us?” He questions lightheartedly, shifting his weight to stretch his legs out of the painful criss-cross they've been in for the past few hours.
“As always.”
An awkward silence passes through the phone receiver, neither sibling speaking. This was why Mike hated calling people. Once the conversation ends, what the hell do you do? Do you just hang up? Saying goodbye is too awkward to do.
Nancy clears her throat, the squeak of bedsprings being heard in the distance. “So,” She began. “How's your writing going? I remember you were pretty excited about it?” She questions.
This is the question he’s been dreading. What is he to say? That he’s been stuck on the exact same chapter for 3 days? That’s embarrassing. “I’m stuck. I’m quitting. Actually I might throw this laptop out of my apartment window.”
“What? You can’t just quit! You’ve been talking about this for so long! Plus, you literally commissioned Will to draw your little character guy!” Nancy argues.
Mike purses his lips, hunching in on himself and picking a loose thread from his hoodie. “ First of all, he isn't a ‘little character guy’ he’s a fully fleshed out protagonist, second of all I’ll find an excuse to tell him but I'm serious this book is going to make me rip out my hair”
The worst part is he isn’t even exaggerating.
Okay, maybe he is, but still. He's just a pinch away from actually deleting the entire Google doc and applying for work at the nearest fast food joint.
“Mike,” Nancy’s voice is softer now. “You’ve wanted to do this for so long, maybe you’re just burnt out. Try stepping away for a while and maybe you’ll find some sort of inspiration?”
Mike's mouth twitches in slight embarrassment,pulling his comforter up to his chin. “Maybe you can call Will? Ask to see if he wants to hang out or something. I know he’s missed you.” She continues.
Now, maybe he could have tried to hold back his obvious excitement from his voice, but he's tired, and he honestly doesn't care. If he had to deal with Nancy’s constant gushing about Jonathan when he proposed, then she can handle his innocent crush on her fiance’s brother (And his best friend of nearly 15 years).
“He misses me?”
A groan rumbles through the speaker before his sister’s voice buzzes through. “Yes, Mike, your best friend misses you. He hasn’t seen you in what, a month? two?”
It has been a while since they’ve seen each other in person, Mike realizes. While Mike stayed in Hawkins, Will followed his brother about 80 miles away to Indianapolis. It’s not that Mike doesn’t want to see him, because god does Mike want to be near Will 24/7, but they’re both busy. Will’s attending an art school he gained a full-ride scholarship to, which Mike definitely doesn't show off at any moment he can solely to embarrass his friend, while Mike is attending a local community college.
The other party members have scattered all across the states. Lucas and Max have chosen to move to California while Dustin has chosen Utah, with definitely no correlation to his teenage sweetheart living there. El chose to stay back in Hawkins to be with Hopper and Joyce. At first Mike thought it would be horribly awkward after their breakup a few years back, but they've grown extremely close, closer than they were while dating.
“Mike? Hello?” Nancy’s voice rings out, snapping him out of his increasingly depressing thought train. “Yeah, I'm here. Maybe I will call him, see if he's busy or something.”
“Alright, i've gotta go get ready, don't end up deleting your work, shithead. Love you.”
A startled chuckle erupts from him. “Bye-” The dial tone beeps back at him signifying she’s ended the call before he got to respond.
Mike scoffs, throws his phone on his bed and stands, albeit wobbly from the lack of usage from his legs. He stretches, rubbing the hours of screen time from his eyes leaving a reddish hue to the skin and the slight blur in his vision.
Perhaps a change of scenery would be a good thing.
*
Mike’s scuffed old converse hit the pavement with a soft patter as he makes his way down to a local coffee shop El recommended to him. In El’s words this place made ‘the bestest coffee EVER’.
The air is dull with a soft chill as the mid-November winds begin picking up in preparation for winter. Winters in Hawkins were never terrible, but with Mike's sensitive skin and absolutely zero tolerance for the cold, they made for a living hell. Perhaps he should invest in an actual winter coat rather than the old sweaters he buys to maintain his ‘cool vintage boy’ look.
The shop door makes a small ding as he pushes it open, relishing in the warmth. He takes a moment to admire the atmosphere, warm tones of beige and tan with splashes of burgundy filling the area giving it a homey feel.
“Hey! Welcome to Inhouse Coffee! What can I get'cha?” A scratchy feminine voice startles Mike from his quiet examination.
Pulling the sleeves of his beige sweater down over his hands, he walks over to the counter. “Hey, umm… can I get a- a black coffee?”
He curses his brain. A black coffee? He doesn't even like black coffee. Jesus.
“Alright, one black c–”
“I’m so sorry, I don't know why I said black, can I get a medium cappuccino?” He cuts her off, a sheepish smile on his face.
The barista, Robin as her name tag supplies, quirks an eyebrow and smiles. “Alright, one medium cappuccino coming up. Name for the order?”
He quickly stutters out his name and pays before going to sit in the corner of the shop. A small circular table is placed in front of a two-seater couch with the evening light creating a small shadow from the miniature Bonsai tree placed in the corner. Mike curses himself for not bringing his laptop, this would be the perfect place to try brainstorming. However, Nancy did say that he should take a break from spilling his brain for a little.
He gets broken out of his thoughts when someone calls out his name, quickly realizing it's the barista with his drink, quickly scrambling to his feet and walking to the counter.
“You seem to be pretty in the clouds, you high or something?” Robin jokes, handing Mike his coffee.
Mike begins to sputter for an explanation, attempting to explain that no, he isn't high, he's just driven himself into the insufferable corner of writer's block and can't find a way out.
“Wh- no, no no no- I’m just tired” he rushes out, causing Robin to chuckle. “Don't worry, I'm only joking. Hope the coffee helps your tiredness though!”
“Yeah, yeah- thank you!” he chokes out in a fluster, sending an awkward wave towards the jokey barista and high-tailing it out of that coffee shop as if he was being chased.
This is one of those moments where he leaves a social situation and realizes that it was not his best work. He’s never entering that cafe again. Okay, that was a lie, because after lightly sipping the cappuccino he understands why El praised this place so highly. He’s definitely going back at one point and just hoping that another barista is working.
Mike sits on the curb of the sidewalk a few doors down from the cafe, one arm wrapped around his torso picking at a loose thread on his sweater, the other holding his steaming coffee to his face in an attempt to warm his freezing nose that he's 100% certain is beet red by now. He regrets leaving the warmth of the cafe but he doesn't want to awkwardly walk back in so he sucks it up and endures the 45 degree temperature while observing his surroundings.
He spots a family, a mother and a father holding his daughter on his shoulders, a dog trying to paw off the reindeer headband its owner put on it and then he spots a boy with a bowl-cut that nearly gives him whiplash as he swivels his head around in a triple-take. He hasn't seen Will in around 2 months and it's starting to get to him. Although they spoke just yesterday, it still feels like he's losing him some way or another. The ugly, stupid part of his brain says that he deserves it, losing Will, but the other part reminds him that Will is his and he is Will’s, maybe not in the way that he so very much desires but its something and he’s going to cherish the relationship he has with him no matter what.
He huffs out a breath, watching his hot breath fan into the cold air with white clouds. Hitting his thighs lightly, he stands and sighs, making his way back to his empty apartment. Not that the apartment is actually empty, but it feels like it is. Maybe it's because Will isn’t there like Mike thinks he should be.
*
It’s now Friday, November 17th and Mike is currently trying to hype himself up to walk into the theatre and see Will for the first time in two months. He about considers driving the nearly two hour long trip back home and faking sick, but he doesn’t get to finish his train of thought before a sickeningly familiar voice calls his name from a few feet away.
He whips his head up from his phone screen to see Will standing there in all his glory, beige button-down tucked neatly into a pair of brown chinos. He notices his hair is grown out slightly, the ends of his fluffy brown bowl-cut curling up around his neck and ears. The wool coat hugs his shoulders just enough to pronounce the broadness but not enough for it to look stiff, the fabric hugging the curve of his waist perfectly. Are those new boots?-
“Mike?”
Will’s voice snaps him out of his in-love-with-my-best-friend induced daze.
“Huh? Oh- Hey! Hi Will.” Mike sputters out awkwardly, not making any move to advance closer than the 8 feet in between them in fear he may explode.
Will giggles, walking over to where Mike is standing just outside of the movie theatre and wrapping his arms around Mike’s shoulder, mumbling a soft ‘Hi, Mike.’ into the crook of his neck.
To say Mike nearly imploded would be an understatement. They've hugged many times, it's a normal greeting for them, so why does this one feel so different? Coming to terms with the fact you’ve been in love with your best friend for years may do that, Mike supposes. He shoves these thoughts into a box and attempts to lock them in the back of his mind. Allowing his feelings to interfere with his entirely platonic relationship with Will is the last thing he wants to do, and if Mike has a say in it, He’s never letting anybody besides his sister know they exist.
He snaps out of his thoughts, quickly wrapping his arms around the other boy's waist, desperately trying to shoo away the thoughts of ‘We fit together like puzzle pieces.’
Will is the one who ends the nearly ten second lasting hug, and Mike has to physically hold back from chasing the warmth the embrace provided. “I missed you.” he smiles.
“I- I missed you too.”
The pair stare at each other for a few moments, Will’s eyes locked on Mike’s and Mike’s not sure whether they’re leaning closer to each other or if he’s just delusional.
The staring comes to an abrupt end when a shout of both their names rings through the quiet atmosphere of a Theatre at night.
They both startle away from each other, Mike's hand rubbing the back of his neck as he coughs lightly, turning towards Jonathan standing at the entrance.
“Intro credits are nearly over, are you guys coming or are you just gonna stare at each other for another 10 minutes?” he yells towards them, motioning back towards the theatre entrance.
Will’s the one to speak up as if he can tell Mike wouldn’t be able to. “Yeah- Yeah we're coming!” he responds, glancing back towards Mike and motioning to follow him before he starts walking towards his brother.
Mike slinks after him, following him like a lost puppy around the theatre’s lobby until they reach their auditorium. He sits in the seat next to Will, nobody to his left so he can bring his legs up and over the arm-rest.
“Why do you always feel the need to sit so weird and uncomfortable?” Will looks at him, giggling softly as he gestures to his obnoxious position. “Here, stop twisting your torso like some contortionist and lean on me.”
Mike's face flushes, a faint pink dusting his cheeks.
“Oh- Are you sure? I don't want to crush you or something”
“Mike, I promise I'm not made of glass or something, and I'm pretty sure your lanky body that probably weighs like, two rocks and a pebble won't crush me.” Will giggles out.
Mike’s eyebrows raise in mock offense, a startled laugh escaping his mouth as he adjusts his flannel and twists so he’s leaning on Will. He tries to ignore the obvious flame to his cheeks and hopes Will doesn’t notice from the angle he’s at, however the darkness of the theatre should do a good job at hiding it.
*
“Is it wrong of me to say that movie was kind of ass?”
Will bursts out laughing at Mike's words, leaning his arm on Mike’s slightly taller form which definitely doesn't cause Mike's face to heat up for the hundredth time this night. “Maybe.”
Nancy glares. “It wasn’t that bad.” She scoffs, though the smile she’s trying to hold back betrays the emotion she's attempting to portray.
“You don’t have to lie, Nance. It was pretty shit.” Jonathan snorts. “Maybe I should have used that ticket money on dinner.”
The group continues to converse until they make their way outside, the cold night air causing everyone to shiver roughly once it comes in contact with their skin. Mike turns towards Will, breath getting caught with how he looks bathed in evening light. It’s a view he’s seen multiple times before but he’ll never get used to.
Nancy and Jonathan say their goodbyes, walking towards their car. “That’s my cue to leave, I guess. I’m riding with them since we live close enough.” Will breaks the silence between the two.
In all honesty, Mikes not ready to say goodbye. Sure, they just spent two hours together side by side, but it's not enough. It’s been two months, can you really blame him for wanting an excuse to stay with him?
“What if- Wouldyoumaybewannatocomewithme?” Mike mumbled quickly, words slurring together as he picked at the bottom of his fraying graphic tee.
Will’s eyebrows contort up in confusion. “Repeat that?”
“Would you maybe want to come with me? We can go to the cafe down the street from my apartment?” Mike questions shyly, avoiding eye contact and instead deciding his beaten up converse are suddenly more interesting than the boy of his dreams in front of him.
“Oh! I- yeah! Sure!” Will replies, a smile curving onto his mouth. It takes Mike all but ten seconds to tear his eyes away from the rosy tint of Will’s lips and drag them back up to his eyes.
Mike stutters out something along the lines of ‘Great! Great. Okay.’ while will looks back towards Jonathan and Nancy’s car and waves them off.
Will looks back towards Mike, the corners of his mouth turning up into a soft smile.
*
The two hour long drive back to Mike’s apartment in Hawkins is mainly silent. Not the uncomfortable kind of silence, but the kind of silence where everything that would be said is put into actions instead of words. Will is holding Mike's hand, doodling on his forearm and wrist with an old pen he found in the cupholder.
By the time they arrive at Mike’s apartment, it’s nearly 9 PM.
“Are you sure the cafe would still be open at this time?” Will questions, looking over at Mike after stretching.
“No, but we can check anyways.” Mike replies, running a hair through his tangled hair. “Can you grab me a hair tie? It’s in the small bowl on the table in the kitchen.”
Will nods, a curious glint in his eyes, before trekking the few feet to the kitchen.
He passes the tie to Mike, and maybe Mike is just delusional and searching for signs that arent even there, but he swears he felt a shock. Or maybe, it's just static electricity and not an extreme love passing through their fingertips. Who knows.
After two attempts to tie his hair up into a simple ponytail and an angry groan, Will speaks up.
“Do you want me to try?”
Mike flushes. “Oh- uh, sure?” he passes the hair tie back to will, watching him spread it over his fingers and around his wrist. Mike moves closer, standing in front of him awkwardly.
He forces himself to suppress a shiver when he feels Will’s fingertips brush against the back of his neck, the way his fingers feel carding through his hair and against his scalp to gather the unruly mess into a bundle. Maybe he is pathetic.
Mike wouldn’t use the words touch-starved to describe himself, but if touch-starved means having the urge to find a way to pause time to his exact moment and forever feel the touch of Will’s fingers in his hair, then maybe he is.
Before he knows it, Will’s hands are retracting from his hair leaving it in a neat ponytail. Mike holds back the urge to follow the warmth of Will’s hands in his hair.
Mike turns around, and he’s nearly convincing himself that he’s hallucinating the red flush dusting Will’s face. There's less than a foot of distance between them now, Will needing to look up ever so slightly. Once again his eyes are drawn to Will’s lips, almost a subconscious automatic reaction to being within his presence. Is he crazy, or was Will looking at his as well?
The walk to the cafe is similar to the car ride, silent but comfortable. There's a shared pair of old earbuds between them, one in Mike's left ear and one in Will’s right. The music is low, the sound of their shoes hitting the concrete of the sidewalk slightly audible. Will looks up at him, a small smile gracing his lips.
“How much longer do you think?”
Mike looks up, spotting the cafe just a few stores down and gesturing towards it. “Just a little,” he looks back at Will. “Right over there.”
Will grabs his hand, dragging him towards the shop at a speed-walking pace causing a small ‘ah!’ to escape his lips.
They enter the cafe, the bell ringing above them as they step into the homey warmth.
“It’s nice here.” Will observes.
“Hey, you! You’re back” somebody shouts from behind the counter. Mike startles, looking up and spotting the same barista he had embarrassed himself in front of the last time he was there. Just his luck.
“Oh- yeah, I am.” Mike replies, the awkwardness he was feeling being prominent in his voice. Will laughs under his breath quietly, and although he was laughing at Mike, he can't help but think it's one of the most heavenly sounds on earth.
Robin, unphased by Mike's awkward attitude, continues speaking.“Who’s that? Boyfriend?”
This causes Mike to immediately freeze up in defense, and he feels Will’s hand in his tense as well. “Hey, if you're going to-”
“OH! Oh, no- I'm sorry. I don't think before I speak very much. That wasn't meant in a, like, condescending way. You don't have to worry about homophobia here! I've got a girlfriend! Her name is Vickie,” she smiles dreamily before continuing. “You guys are cute together.” Robin rushes out, pointing quickly to a small pride pin on her apron.
Mike flushes, pale face becoming a shade of washed out red as he attempts to choke out a few words. He quickly looks at Will, who doesn't seem to be in a much better state. Despite the inappropriate timing, he can't help but to admire the way a blush looks on his tanner skin. Will looks back at him before looking back at Robin.
“We aren’t- aren't.. Dating.” he chokes out. Mike looks down, ashamed at the small wave of disappointment he feels at the words.
“Oh…. I read that completely wrong then. Sorry about that..” Robin chuckles sheepishly, fiddling with the straps of her apron. “So… what can I get you guys?”
Will untangles his fingers from Mikes to go and read the menu at the counter and he has to fight the urge to chase the comfort that the pressure brought him. Mike follows close behind, peaking over Will’s shoulder and drumming a soft beat onto the glossed wood of the counter with his finger.
“Can I get a latte with cream?” Will asks, looking at Mike and then at Robin as she scribbles down his order before looking over at Mike. “And you? Same as last time?”
Mike clears his throat before glancing at the menu for a split second, humming affirmatively.
“Great! Those will be out soon.” Robin smiles before walking through the double doors behind the counter.
Will looks over at Mike as they begin making their way to the corner Mike sat in during his previous visit, Will dragging a chair to place in front of the table instead of sitting next to Mike, to his disappointment. “You come here often? She seemed pretty friendly?”
Mike laughs lightly. “No, this is only the second time I've been here. I guess she's just enthusiastic about her job? Or she remembered me from the incredibly awkward interactions we had last time.”
“She seems nice.” Will replies. Mike hums in agreement.
“Order up!” Robin announces in a horrible British accent walking towards their table. She places the two cups at their respective persons side before dragging a chair over to the side of the table and sitting.
“Oh shit- sorry, can I sit here? It's just, nobody comes in past like, five, so it gets pretty boring.” she quickly explains.
Will smiles at her politely and looks over at Mike, Mike getting lost in his eyes before shaking his head, snapping back to reality and replying a quick “Oh, yeah, sure.”
The three sit and chat while Will and Mike drink. As it turns out, the hyperactive barista lady is actually pretty cool. She lives with her roommate Steve and has a pet bird named Cheeto. She's also absolutely obsessed with her girlfriend. Not that Mike can complain considering he's obsessed with somebody who he isn't even dating.
After a while, Will excuses himself to the bathroom leaving Mike and Robin alone. Suddenly, Robin turns towards Mike eagerly. “So, you like him don't you?”
Mike freezes, choking slightly on the sip of coffee he had in his mouth. “What?”
“You like him.”
Mike feels utterly exposed. He can't be that obvious, right? This is a complete stranger!
“No.”
Robin lets out a laugh before her face goes serious again. “You can't fool me, I have THE gaydar of gaydars. Your secret is safe with me!” she shrugs him on the shoulder with a smile. “And, for the record, I'm pretty sure he feels the same way.”
This causes Mike's brain to override. There's no way Mike is getting his hopes up over a stranger they've known for 20 minutes saying the love of his life may feel the same.
He lied. He definitely is getting his hopes up.
“Really?”
“Absolutely dude. You guys look at each other like you’re the main characters in some cheesy romcom. Seriously.” Robin answers, emphasizing ‘cheesy romcom’ .
Just as Mike goes to reply, Will walks back towards the table causing both Mike and Robin to sit up straight from their hushed hunched over positions, causing Will to raise an eyebrow.
“What, are you guys planning an evil scheme or something? Why were you hunched over like that?” Will jokes, taking his seat and shrugging off his coat.
Robin chuckles. “Something like that!” she replies, shouldering Mike.
After a few seconds of silence, Mike clears his throat. “Alright, well, I think we're done?” he questions, looking over at Will and receiving an affirmative nod.
Robin stands along with them and begins walking back towards the counter with their trash. “Alright! Bye guys! Hope to see you guys again!” Robin winks at Mike and he goes red, Will raising a conspirative eyebrow.
The two exit the cafe, the cold instantly causing dual shivers to run down their backs.
“Jesus, it's cold.” Mike mutters, pulling his flannel closer to his body.
With no reply from Will, he looks to his side and see’s Will unfolding his coat and handing it over.
“Here”
“Wh- no, you need this, it's like, what, 35 degrees?” Mike argues, pushing the coat back towards Will.
Will steps closer, pushing the coat into Mike's chest softly and looking up at him. “I have a thick sweater on, I'll be fine. You're the one wearing fall attire in winter.” Will criticizes lightly.
“Are you sure?-”
“Positive. Take it, Mike. For me.”
And Mike be damned, there's no way he would be able to deny Will when he asks so sweetly. He grabs the coat, pulling it over his body. It’s slightly big for him, Mike realizes, although his abnormally long arms cause his wrists to peek through the sleeves. It smells like will, and maybe that's a little weird but he basks in it while he can anyways.
Will smiles up at him, and for a split second he thought he saw his gaze slip down his face, but he may just be high on Will's cologne.
The two make their way back to Mike's apartment, happy to finally feel the warmth of a heater and take their shoes off after hours. This is where a problem begins. If Will is staying over, all Mike owns in this apartment is his bed and a two-seater couch. The couch would be too small for Will, but he doesn't know if Will would be comfortable sleeping in his bed with him.
“I may not have thought this through thoroughly” Mike say, looking around and avoiding eye contact.
“And how?”
“Well, okay, so, I only have my couch and my bed, but the couch would be too small, so you can take my bed and I can make a fake bed on my floor maybe?” Mike rushes out, finally making eye contact.
Will's eyes widen, eyebrows furrowing. “Mike, I'm not going to let you sleep on the cold floor of your own apartment. You can take the bed.”
The thought of sleeping on the floor sounds like actual hell for Mike's joints, but the thought of having Will sleep on the floor is worse.
“Absolutely not. You can take the bed. Really.”
Will sighs exasperatedly. “Mike, really-”
“Nope. Enjoy the bed! I'm pretty sure I have some extra clothes you can sleep in?” Mike switches the topic, a tactic to ensure he's won the argument.
Will accepts defeat, a sigh leaving his mouth. “Alright, okay, and yes please, thank you!” he chirps.
Mike makes his way to his bedroom, Will following shortly after. He digs in his closet for a little, dirty clothes littering the bottom and he prays he won't see it. He grabs an undershirt and some sweatpants, tossing them over to Will.
“The bathroom is just down the hall, you can change there, or I can change there, it's really up to you-”
“Mike, it's okay.” Will snickers, leaving down the hall.
Mike hears the door close with a soft click.
*
Mike has no clue how long it's been, but he absolutely cannot sleep on this floor. He's laying on his side, eyes wide open.
“Mike? You awake?”
Will's soft voice echoes through the quiet room. Mike feels his heart skip a beat at the deepness of his voice.
“Hm? Yeah, yeah I am.” he replies, sitting up. “What's up?”
“Can't sleep,” Will murmurs, sitting up as well. “Come up here?”
Mike gulps, his mind racing before he immediately shakes his head to rid of them and clambers up next to will.
They're close enough for their thighs to be touching, Will is fiddling with the bottom of the shit he's wearing, Mike's blanket pulled up and around his shoulders. Despite the low visibility Mike has in the dark of his room, he can't help but think he looks adorable. It's only now that Mike fully realizes Will’s wearing his clothes.
He looks towards Will to him already staring, feeling a blush rise onto his cold cheeks. Mike scans his face, from the soft purple of the bags under his eyes to the slightly bitten texture of his lips. He finds himself staring at his lips for a bit longer than needed, quickly dragging his eyes back to Wills, just to find Wills on a lower part of his face. Is he-?
Mike's thoughts are cut off by a soft pressure against his lips, barely being given time to react before they retract, Will staring at him in horror.
“Oh my god, I'm so, so sorry. I don't know what happened, i'm really sorry, mike, im s-”
Even though Mike's two brain cells are being worked overtime, and he barely understands what just happened, he finds himself pushing his lips back onto his best friends and chasing the pressure, finding an immediate reaction: Will’s lips pressing back onto his eagerly.
Mike has no idea what he imagined kissing Will would be like, but it wasn't this. There weren't any sparkles, no fireworks, it was just Will. Just Will, and that was all he needed. He finds Will’s hands entangling themselves in his hair and on his neck, the sensation bringing a shiver down his spine at every small contact. In return, Mike places his hands around Will’s waist, pulling him closer towards him.
They break apart, gasping breaths being the only sound heard in Mike’s quiet room. He finds Will’s eyes and immediately dives back for his lips. He knows they should talk, but he's going to take what he can get. They can talk after.
Will's hands are pulling on Mike’s hair, his hair tie long gone lost in the sea of sheets. Mike is gasping, giving Will the perfect opportunity to deepen the kiss, hands moving from Mike’s hair to his neck to hold himself steady. Mike's hands roam from his waist up his back and to his biceps, giving them a soft squeeze. Before he knows it, Will pushes further, leaving Mike about an inch until he falls off the bed. The kiss breaks apart as Mike grasps at will to keep himself from falling, only to drag him down with him.
The two stare at each other for a moment before bursting into laughter, Mike hunched over with his hands on the ground while Will throws his head back with a giggle. Once they calm down, Mike collapses backwards, breath heavy from laughing. Will smiles, crawling over to Mike and lays down next to him, laying his head on his chest.
“Should we talk about this?”
Mike shuts his eyes. “Probably. Sleep first, though.” he murmurs, pulling Will closer to his body and relishing in the warmth it provides.
And if Mike woke up the next day with the most painful crick in his neck but a happy Will Byers beside him, then that’s nobody's business but his own.