Archive of Our Own ^beta

It’s late, but as usual these days, Will is still awake. 

He’s lying in bed, ears strained for the sounds of his parents. They’d come upstairs a few minutes ago, a little later than usual, their footsteps echoing on the wooden stairs, followed by the tell-tale ‘thunk’ of their bedroom door clicking shut. In a few minutes, they’d be fast asleep. 

Will shivers, pulling his blankets tighter around himself. He could close the window, but he’s too comfortable to get up, especially as then he’d have to get up again in just a little while to open it for Mike. As if having heard Will’s plea, the window slides open further, and Will leans up on his elbow as Mike climbs in as quietly as he can. He barely makes a sound now, so used to the routine of fitting his long limbs through the small gap. 

He waits patiently as Mike quietly changes into the pyjamas he’d stored here, and only when Mike is ready to join him, does he lift the duvet, interrupting his small cocoon of warmth to let Mike in. 

“Hello again,” Mike whispers now he’s close enough - or almost close enough - and Will smiles as he bridges the gap between them to press a kiss to Mike’s lips. 

“Hi.”

Not many words need to be said anymore, not when it’s this late and not when they’d spent the entire day hiking together with the party. They’re both exhausted, Will can tell, but Mike still leans in to kiss him a little deeper. It’s hard not to take advantage of these moments, the moments when it’s just Mike and him in the dark, unafraid of touch, unafraid of wrapping their arms around each other and tasting each other’s lips. No need to hold themselves back. 

Will treasures these moments.

Still, it’s no loss when they part only a few minutes later, because they get to settle down in each other’s arms to sleep.

He wakes up slowly, soft heartbeat in his ear as he is still laying on Mike’s chest where he’d fallen asleep, arm thrown over Mike’s stomach. Will instinctively snuggles closer to him, tightening his arm to pull him closer, his body chasing the comfort of Mike’s warmth. Even with the window closed, his bedroom is always freezing in the morning, the late winter sun not enough to provide any warmth yet. 

Sun. 

Will sits up in a panic, causing Mike to ‘oomf' as Will puts pressure on his stomach to push himself up. He stares at the clock on his nightstand, quickly letting out a string of curses. 

“Will, what?” Mike groans, still half-asleep as he tries to find his breathing again after his brute awakening. His arms come up to Will’s shoulders, trying to pull him down again, trying to return to their warm embrace. Will really wants to comply, but he can’t, heart racing as he strains his ears trying to listen to the rest of the house. 

“Mike, stop it.” He hisses to quiet him, fighting back Mike’s arm and putting a firm hand over his mouth. Mike frowns in offence, staring up at him in hurt confusion. “It’s 9:15. We overslept.”

Mike’s eyes finally widen appropriately, panic clearly waking him up enough to think about their predicament. It’s not fun to wake up at 6 am just so Mike can sneak out while it’s still dark, but it’s worked so far - and at least it’s better than his parents catching them like this, with no explanation as to why Mike is in his bed when he wasn’t there the night before. Why they hadn’t just asked for a sleepover. 

It’s probably worse for Mike - if his parents find out he’d snuck out in the middle of the night he’s surely going to hear about it. 

He doesn’t hear anything in the hallway yet, but that doesn’t mean his parents aren’t awake. They could be having coffee in silence, the kitchen far enough from Will’s bedroom that it’s hard to tell. 

Mike grabs him around the wrist, pulling his hand away from his mouth, and Will glances down at him apologetically. “I can still sneak out,” he whispers, eyes shining up at Will as he keeps his voice as quiet as possible, “I just have to be more careful.” 

“Okay, but hurry.” Will nods, eyeing the window with a sense of betrayal - as if it is singlehandedly responsible for their predicament. It could have warned them about the rising sun earlier. 

Mike pushes himself up, quietly getting out of bed and exchanging his pyjamas for yesterday’s t-shirt. Will tries not to watch his chest as he does, tries not to get distracted by the amount of pale skin on display, the dips of his ribs and collarbones that his fingers are already so accustomed to. It’s gone all too soon, Mike rushing through the process, cursing as he looks around for his jeans. 

“Hey,” Will pulls Mike’s attention to him. The look on Mike’s face softens the moment their eyes meet, worry shifting into a soft smile. He’s still wearing his pyjama bottoms, still looking for his pants and he really has to get going. Will knows that. “Come here.”

Confused, Mike does as told, stepping right up to the edge of the bed but not leaning down. That’s okay. Will sits up instead, getting up on his knees so he’s at the same height as Mike - or at least not too far below it - blankets pooling around his legs. He pulls Mike in by the waist, pressing a soft kiss to Mike’s lips. He can feel Mike smile against him, lips pliant and warm. 

Wrapping his arms further around Mike, he hugs him tightly against him, breaking the kiss so he can bury his face in Mike’s neck. He wishes they could stay like this, wishes they could linger in bed and go down for pancakes at a more respectable morning hour, something like 2 pm. 

Maybe they can have a sleepover next weekend - something he’s sure his parents won’t find weird. Sunday’s his birthday after all, and spring break, no less. Then they could sleep in and Hopper would make them waffles in the morning. Then he can watch Mike across from him at the breakfast table, taking in his bedhead and sleepy eyes. 

He really shouldn’t complain just because they can’t have that every day - obviously they can’t. But Will always hates this - hates saying goodbye, knowing they can only fully relax in this bedroom. 

It’s crazy to think that they’ve only had this for about two months. Will can’t remember how he’d survived it - knowing now what it’s like to kiss Mike, to hold him in his arms, to be free with his movements and touch him whenever and however he wants without having to overthink it; he can’t imagine a world where he’d feared just looking at him. It’s like a drug, being this carefree, being so certain of Mike’s love for him. 

Mike is the one to pull away eventually, pressing one last apologetic kiss to Will’s lips before ducking down to look under Will’s bed - obviously his pants aren’t there. 

“Check the dresser.”

Mike does as told, immediately finding the pair of jeans in a pile next to it. “Thanks.” 

He changes quickly, kissing Will one last time before crawling out the window and disappearing into the morning. Will sighs as he allows himself to fall back down onto his mattress, feeling ridiculous for missing Mike already. 

“You’re ridiculous.” Will rolls his eyes, shaking his head as he turns the page of the new x-men comic he’d gotten for his birthday. The Dan Hartman cassette Mike had gotten him is playing ‘my desire’ in the background. It’s strange how a song that used to be his go-to when feeling heartbroken about Mike, suddenly meant the opposite. Especially as the full album actually has some really beautiful love songs on it. He’d recorded It Hurts To Be In Love from the radio, never knowing how beautiful the rest of the album really is.

More importantly, now when he listens to it all he remembers is his first kiss and the months after, and Mike’s bashful smile when he’d given him his present, the way he’d stumbled over his words trying to explain.

Or how they’d listen to the album after, Mike puling him to his feet to dance during ‘forever in the moment’. He’d never guessed how cheesy Mike could be, but it’s not a surprise that Mike can make him soar, feeling more in love every time they interact.  

“I’m not! Magneto is totally going to win - it’s not even a fair fight.”

“It’s not about it being a fair fight!” Will insists for the millionth time. “It’s about the story - you of all people should know that. It doesn’t make sense to have them battle if they’re no match for each other!”

“Maybe.”

“It’s like - if the mutants are stronger than the Avengers, what’s the point of the Avengers, right?”

“But that doesn’t make sense!” Mike groans, turning onto his stomach so he can rest his chin on his arms and look down at Will over the edge of the couch, sprawled out on the carpet in front of him, laying on his side. Will raises his eyebrows at him, but continues reading. “Like, they shouldn’t de-power the mutants just because they’re afraid of pissing off Avengers fans! They should stick to what actually makes sense in the story! Never mind the fact that Avengers already get all the credit while the mutants are considered freaks for having powers-”

“That’s probably what they’re going to explore in the story - the actual fights are just to keep the action fans interested.” Will shrugs, glancing up. He knows Mike’s just ranting because he’s bored, but Will is more than happy to accommodate him. “At least, I hope so.”

“What do you think, Holly?” Will looks to the side, pushing himself up a bit more so he can smile at her. 


Holly looks up from where she’s sitting at the coffee table, crayon in hand. She shrugs at him, before continuing her drawing. 

“Whatever, I just hope mom is actually getting me the comic.” Mike turns his gaze towards Holly, staring her down. “Hols, do you know? Did she get me a comic book?”

Holly shrugs again, pursing her lips together as she refuses to look up.

Mike’s eyes widen in excitement, smile creeping up his lips. “Is that a yes?”

Will knows Holly doesn’t actually know the answer. Will does, but he’d been sworn to secrecy and isn’t about to break Mrs. Wheeler’s trust. Mike can sweat it out for a few more days.

Holly shrugs again. 

“Oh fuck yes.”

“Mike.” Will scolds, sending him a look.

“I mean, Holly don’t use that word.” 

Will shakes his head at him in exasperation, trying to keep his amusement from showing on his face. Mike catches his gaze and does that crooked smile he does, a single tug of his lip that Will now knows means ‘I love you’. It makes his stomach twirl dangerously as he smiles back at him, trying to convey how mutual those feelings are. 

Holly turns to face Will, holding out her drawing. “Is this good?”

Will shakes himself from his thoughts and scoots over. He accepts the sheet of paper, looking over the crude drawing of the Wheeler house and the ‘party’ set up outside that exists of a table with a cake drawn on top. “Of course! Holly, it’s beautiful. Like a true artist. How about you add some balloons?”

Holly frowns as she looks back at her drawing, face lighting up after a moment as she nods. She pulls the drawing back from his hands, immediately bending back over it. “What color?”

Will glances at her conspiratorially, allowing his eyes to cut to Mike for a flash before returning to her, making her giggle. He drops his voice to a loud whisper. “He likes blue.”

“How about yellow?” Mike speaks up, obviously having heard their entire conversation. Will sends him a warning look, but he can’t help his smile, taking in his beautiful boyfriend as he slides down from the couch to sit across from them. 

“No peaking!” Holly yells, pulling her drawing from the coffee table and pressing it against her chest, glaring at her brother. 

“Yes, Michael, this doesn’t concern you.” Mike sends him a warning scowl, causing warmth to bloom in his chest, sending stars down his spine. 

“How about you go ask your mom for her opinion?” Will suggests, bumping his shoulder into Holly’s. “I’m sure she’ll help you wrap it as well.”

Holly stands up, nodding excitedly, before running up the stairs. As soon as the door is closed, Will turns back to Mike, their eyes meeting with the stupid table between them. They’re quiet, not saying a word as they simply stare each other down. Mike’s brown eyes are darker than usual, squeezing Will’s lungs with anticipation, heart beating a steady rhythm against his sternum. 

Giving in, Will quickly scoots around the table, Mike already reaching out his hands to cup his face and pull Will into him. Will’s hands grip onto Mike’s waist as they always do, hungry fingers digging into his skin, pulling him closer. He ends up half-sprawled over Mike, leaning back against the bottom of the couch, knees digging into the shag carpet. 

They don’t allow themselves to get truly lost in it, knowing that Holly could be back any moment, or worse, Mike’s parents - not that Will has ever seen Mr. Wheeler set foot in the basement for as long as he’d known Mike - which is forever. 

Still, the touch of Mike’s lips is like a siren song, a flower blooming on a spring day, brightening Will’s life like a star bursting to life. And though they have to keep their ears strained, Will revels in the feel of Mike against him, soft skin soothing every nerve. 

The kiss fades off into soft pecks eventually and Will allows himself to fall down next to Mike, curling into his side and resting his head on his shoulder. Mike’s arm comes up around the small of his back, hand a warm pressure on his hip, keeping him close. 

They continue sitting in silence like that for a while, Will back to reading his comic while Mike simply watches. 

When the door slams open 20 minutes later they jump apart immediately, sitting an appropriate 5 feet apart when their friends come bounding down the stairs. Will hopes they hadn’t seen, but as they’re acting normal, he doesn’t think he has to worry. 

Will’s head is resting against Mike’s knee, the simple pressure enough to pull all his focus to that singular point of contact. It’s innocent enough to get away with, the gesture easily written off as coincidence. Hanging out as a group is still a special kind of torture, mostly because Mike constantly has to hold himself back from reaching out to touch Will. 

But because he loves his friends, he’s willing to suffer through it. Mike has definitely gained more respect for Max and Lucas for having massive restraint - there’s no reason for them not to drown their friend group in PDA, except for common human decency, and yet the most affection they show is punching each other in the arm. 

Mostly Max punching Lucas.

El is curled up against Will’s shoulder as they look over their cards for their next move. Mike can’t help resent her for it, but only a little bit - two hours ago it had been Mike and Will in that position, and he really misses Will’s pressure against his side. Worse, he won’t be able to go to Will’s tonight either; they’re visiting his grandmother tomorrow, meaning his mom would probably be awake extra early, making sneaking back in too difficult. 

Part of him is relieved he doesn’t have to bike all the way across town at an ungodly hour, only to do it again in the morning, but if the price is missing Will, he doesn’t want to pay it. He loves that they’re back to the way things were - mutual understanding between the two of them, love and easy affection - everything that had been so hard when he’d been hiding this massive secret inside of him. When a smile hello felt like he was showing his cards too much. 

It should be enough, should be enough to just get to relax, to know he’s not alone. That he won’t loose Will. 

And partially, it is. 

Their party has never felt more perfect, more at ease, more natural. Sometimes it even feels like it had before everything had changed. 

It’s more than enough. 

But even though Will and Mike are okay again - perfect even - it doesn’t mean that they can go back fully to the way things used to be. They still can’t hold hands like they used to, the gesture suddenly no longer innocent, and now Mike is too aware of how he treats Will compared to the others, he can’t simply wrap his arm around him anymore either. 

It’s all worth it though, for getting to fall asleep next to Will whenever they can. When he doesn’t have to worry about waking up in the middle of the night in a panic, worried that it had all been a dream, too good to be true. Worry that they’d never found Will at all, or that he’d simply disappeared again. 

Now when he wakes up in the middle of the night, blue and red lights still flashing in front of his eyelids, Will is right there, in the safety of his arms or breathing softly on the pillow next to him. 

Mike would be able to see into Will and El’s cards from his position on the couch above them, but Will makes sure to block them with his body. According to the new rule they’d had established a few months ago, Will and El are not allow to participate in the same game unless they’re a team, because those two are too competitive for their own good. 

Mike still refuses to go back to game-nights at the Byers-Hopper household. 

Or well, he refuses to participate, he never says no to getting to spend an evening with them instead of his own family. 

Lost in thought, Mike reaches his hand out to comb through Will’s hair as he studies his own cards. The hairs at the back of Will’s neck are easy enough to toy with, twirling the long strands absentmindedly around his fingers. It takes him a minute to notice how Will has tensed up beneath his touch, and once his brain catches up to the reason why, Mike quickly snatches his hand back. 

In the same move, he throws himself off the couch, kneeling in front of the coffee table with the guise of looking at the stack of cards better as he prepares his next move. He’s pretty certain the diversion works, as everyone seems distracted by Dustin throwing down his blue 6, and Mike fumbles before adding a matching yellow card. 

Immediately a wave of noise breaks out, screaming right into his ear as Will and El start yelling about him trying to cheat, quickly followed by Max and Dustin. It takes a few disorienting minutes before he realizes his 6 is in fact a 9, and he grudgingly accepts his seven penalty cards as the noise dims down. He can feel the smug smiles of El and Will next to him, now the ones in the lead after Max made Lucas grab 4 cards.  

Mike rolls his eyes at them, but smiles in relief as his slip-up seems to have gone unnoticed. Will’s knee brushes against his under the cover of shifting to get more comfortable, but Mike understands and catches his gaze with a wink. 

Pleased at getting Will to blush so prettily, Mike focuses on the game for a few more rounds, but when El asks for more juice, he’s relieved, glad for the excuse to escape for a moment. 

Max whines for more coke and chips, buggering and pinching Lucas until he gets up to get it for her. Lucas makes a good show of being annoyed, but they all know he’s faking as he follows Mike up the stairs. 

Mike moves silently through the kitchen, grabbing the juice and coke from the fridge while Lucas opens the cabinets to grab more chips and salted pretzels. The ground floor seems eerily quiet compared to the basement, and it takes a moment for Mike to remember his mom and dad are having dinner with the parents of one of Holly’s friends. Strange how they’d stopped doing that with Lucas and Dustin’s parents, the need for it fading as they were old enough to plan their own playdates. Still, Mike feels a peculiar sense of longing for it, missing that feeling of playing upstairs while the chatter of a cosy dinner fills the house. 

That play time had always felt more precious somehow, more coveted as they tried to stay as much out of sight as possible, trying to make their parents forget about going home on time. 

“I’m really glad you and Will worked it out, man.” Lucas speaks from behind him, cutting through Mike’s nostalgia. His voice is way too casual for being able to make Mike freeze to his spot so effectively. Mike spins towards him, slowly, mechanically, heart beating loudly in his chest as he sends Lucas a slightly suspicious look, the fridge door falling shut behind him.

“What do you mean?”

“Come on, man -,” Lucas puts the bag of chips down so he can look Mike in the eyes, as if noticing the defensive edge that had snuck into Mike’s tone. As usual, his expression is painfully sincere, firm but calming. Lucas has always been quick as a spark, passionate and opinionated, but it’s in moments like this that Mike really appreciates the reason behind it. He’d only really begun to understand that it’s because he cares so much once they got older and tragedy became a regular part of life. “We could all tell how much you two were struggling; I’m glad you got it all sorted out or whatever.”

“Oh, yeah,” Mike says, blushing slightly at his overreaction. Of course, he didn’t mean that. How could he? “Sure, of course.”

“Hey,” Lucas catches Mike’s attention again. “I know I don’t get what it’s like - at least not fully, and with everything on the news - I mean, I just… I understand how scary it can be. And I know you two can’t just go share a milkshake or whatever-”

Mike is frozen in place again, listening to Lucas’ words. His heckles are raising, about to protest Lucas’ … accusation? It doesn’t sound like an accusation, it doesn’t really sound like anything but casual rambling. 

“So you know, I just wanted to say that you can just… relax, okay? Around us, at least.” Mike looks up to meet Lucas’ eyes, his best friend and neighbour shrugging with a sheepish smile. “We’re your friends; you know we’ll always love you guys. That’s coming from Dustin too, of course.”

“You knew?”

Lucas shrugs again. 

“And it’s not-,” Mike cringes at his own question, but he has to ask. “It’s not weird?”

“Dude, it’s you and Will.”

Mike can’t help but smile, blushing down at the counter at the thought. It really has always been them, hasn’t it? 

“Thanks, Lucas.” Mike says, and he walks around the counter, wrapping his arms around him in a tight hug. 

“Don’t mention it.” Lucas hugs him back for a moment, before pulling back with a grin. “Besides, it’s your basement. Who are we to tell you not to touch your boyfriend in you own house.”

All the blood in Mike’s body rushes to his ears, turning them bright red. 

Boyfriend. 

He guesses it’s true, but still… he has a boyfriend. Will is his boyfriend. He’d never really thought about it like that. 

“Oh man-” Lucas laughs, loud and bubbly as ever. “-you should see your face right now.”

Mike pushes him aside, ears burning harder than before, turning around to quickly grab the drinks and escape into the basement, Lucas’ laughter following him down. He puts the drinks down on the table and reclaims his seat on the ground next to Will, throwing his arm over Will’s shoulder like it’s the most casual thing in the world. 

Despite the reassurance, his heart is still beating wildly in his chest, and he refuses to look at Dustin and Max. He wants to believe Lucas, but it’s still nerve-wracking, not made easier as Will is tense in his embrace. No one comments however; Dustin and El don’t even interrupt their conversation, and when he watches Max glance up and meet Lucas’ wink, he relaxes. 

Will sends him a questioning look, but when he notices Mike’s reassuring smile, he allows himself to relax as well, head falling down to rest on Mike’s shoulder. 

Mike is early tonight - too early. It’s barely eight, his parents still downstairs and awake. Will tells himself it doesn’t matter. It’s not like his parents come in to check up on him before going to sleep - at least not all the time. His mom had gotten better at that, feeling more secure with Hopper around. 

Will doesn’t worry about it, too easily distracted by Mike sliding into place next to him. It’s too early to sleep, but Will wants to enjoy the extra time with Mike in his bed, make sure he’s as close as he can possibly be. 

“Hi,” Will smiles in greeting, watching Mike on the pillow next to him. His hair is a mess from to the harsh winds outside, curls sticking out in all directions, and Will doesn’t need to stop himself from reaching out and curling his fingers in the dark strands. “How was lunch with your grandmother?”

“Horrible,” Mike scoffs, rolling his eyes but turning his head slightly to lean into Will’s touch. “Can’t believe we had to waste a whole day with her. I mean, she barely talks to us anyway, only complains.”

“About what?”

“Well, it’s always about how long my hair is, or Nancy’s clothes, or mom’s pasta dish she’d told her to bring.” Will watches him peacefully, content to listen to him talk.

Will hadn’t missed him, because that would be ridiculous - he can be away from him for 24 hours, he’s not that clingy - but he’s ecstatic to have Mike in front of him again, to hear his voice and trace his eyes over Mike’s face. 

Only a few months ago, he’d thought his friendship with Mike was teetering to an end, that every day they were drifting further and further apart. That he’d blown it by running his mouth and showing his cards too much. 

Now, he has more than he’d ever dared dream, his worst nightmare not inevitable at all. 

“She just kept going on and on - the only one she didn’t have any complaints about being my dad of course. And then she asked-“ Will watches as a smirk pulls at Mike’s lips and he squints up at him suspiciously. 

“She asked why I didn’t have a girlfriend yet.” He’s grinning as he rolls his eyes, seemingly unbothered by the story. 

“Yes, Michael,” Will asks, raising an expectant eyebrow at him, “why don’t you?”

“Well, it’s because of my clothes and hair, of course.” 

Will scoffs. “Seriously?”

“Yeah according to her they - listen to this,” Mike reaches out to tap Will’s chin, as if to make sure he’s paying attention - even though Will hasn’t looked away once - grin tugging at his lips. “They make me look queer.”

“I mean, I have been wondering-“ Will starts, trying to keep his face as serious as possible, but Mike laughs and cuts him off with an exasperated ‘shut up’, already leaning forward to shut Will up himself. 

Will tightens his grip on Mike’s hair, using it to steer the kiss. 

It’s not surprising how kissing Mike never gets old - how every time it sends sparks cascading over his skin, his heart seemingly burning twice as hot, sending heat to his every cell. There’s no need to be frugal with their touches, his mind will always start singing a steady chorus of Mike, Mike, Mike, Mike, Mike every time they so much as brush hands. He’s like the extension of himself, the person who knows him better than he does himself, familiar with each and every inch of his existence, knows the exact shade of his soul. 

Will tries to pull him as close as possible, needing Mike to connect with his every pore. This burning want to just keep going and going and going until the end of time. Mike’s hand that isn’t pulling him in by the hip worms its way up between them, landing firm and warm on Will’s neck, making him shiver. Their lips twist together in a soft rhythm, the taste of him singing down to his toes, sparking him like electricity. 

When they eventually pull apart, Mike keeps his arms lazily thrown over Will’s side, finger tracing circles on the small of his back. 

“It’s kind of funny too,” Mike continues with a smile as if the conversation had never been interrupted, even though Will is definitely still a bit breathless, making it hard to focus, “because I allowed mom to pick my outfit.”

“Really?” Will grins, easily distracted by thinking about Mike dressed in a shirt and slacks, maybe a striped sweater - the Mike from his childhood. 

“Yeah, she always gets so stressed about going to visit her - obviously with good reason - so whatever.”  Mike shrugs. “Didn’t really feel like starting something.”

Will gives him a quick peck, heart burning over this sweet boy in front of him. The kindest most loving soul he’d ever had the honour of knowing. “I like you in sweaters.”

“Like me?” Mike asks, raising his eyebrow teasingly, making Will blush. 

“Love.” 

“What’s that?”

Will rolls his eyes, pushing Mike away from him, turning onto his back and grinning at the ceiling. Mike’s giggle echoes in his ears as he’s shoved back to his side of the bed, hand pulled from Will’s hip but stubbornly clinging onto his chest, Mike not allowing himself to be fully detached from him. He turns his head to the side, watching Mike’s smile dig into his cheek, his eyes adjusted enough to the dark room to catch Mike’s gaze easily. 

It’s enough to fall to his knees in prayer. Everything bad that has happened in his life - it doesn’t matter, not when he’s been gifted this; Mike Wheeler, the best friend a lonely 5 year old could ask for, the most loving person to kiss him goodnight. 

“I love you.” He says because he can, because he should. It wouldn’t be right to go unannounced, to leave it unsaid. It deserves to be spoken, to be confirmed again and again and again. Especially when Mike’s eyes immediately brighten at his words, as they always do. Will doesn’t have to be able to see the blush to know it’s painting Mike’s cheeks. 

His hand tightens on Will’s chest, gripping onto his shirt right above Will’s heart, face so soft and loving it makes Will dizzy with anticipation. They simply watch each other for a moment, knowing there’s no rush, that they have time to just revel, to take in each other’s presence and let the words linger over them.  

Mike’s mouth starts moving right as a knock sounds on the door. 

They jump up immediately, hearts racing as they stare at the door in panicked silence, as if they’d imagined it, as if whomever it was would go away if they simply stayed silent. Maybe it was El. Please let it be El. 

“Boys, can we come in? We need to talk to you.”

Shit shit shit shit shit. Will is too disorientated to know what’s going on, standing around trying to do something but not knowing what, barely aware that Mike is already across the room, halfway through the window. His mind is racing, trying to figure out what to do, yet apparently still functional enough to recognise his mom had said ‘Boys'. Plural. 

Clearly they hadn’t been as careful as they’d thought. 

The knock sounds again, and as Mike has already disappeared out the window, he forces his body to work, barely able to hear himself as he responds. “Yea-yeah.”

Will’s bedroom door opens, spilling light into the dark room. Both his mom and Hopper are in the doorway, careful expressions on their face as they step into the room. His mom turns on the light on his dresser. 

“Wha-hi?” Will’s mind is clouded with panic, heart beating out of his chest, as his parents look around his bedroom. Hopper’s eyes linger on the open window and he sighs. There’s a tug at his lips that Will can’t decipher.

“Honey,” Will turns to face his mom, surely a safer person to be looking at. Her eyes are kind as usual, but careful in a way he hasn’t seen in since he’d been having episodes leading up to the mind flayer’s possession. As if she’s holding herself together for him. “Can you please ask Mike to come back inside?”
 
His heart drops into his stomach, making him swallow as he has to fight back tears. He doesn’t want to cry, but his body is tense like a wire, just shy from shaking. Looking away from his mother, he stares at the floor instead, surprised by the immediate sense of shame and embarrassment that washes over him. 

He hand’t expected that emotion - fear? Yes. Sadness? Of course. But shame… it’s too visceral, too strong, and he doesn’t even understand what he’s ashamed of. It’s like every feeling of love and elation he’d felt a minute before has curdled in his stomach, souring and turning his insides to acid. 

“M-Mike?” He calls out, cringing when his voice breaks. He wishes he could have lied, could have stood strong and angry and insisted Mike isn’t here. 

But Will has always been a terrible liar. Too quick to submit and accept the consequences. 

At first, Will thinks Mike is already gone, that he’d already fled back home. Or even if he hasn’t already left, that he shouldn’t have been able to hear Will from his spot on the flat roof of their veranda. Yet a sound at his window makes Will look up, watching as Mike reluctantly pulls himself back through the window. Their eyes meet, and Will can read the misery in them, the red splotches on his face, the hard, angry look in his eyes. 

It helps Will feel better though, just having Mike in the room with him. He’s not alone. Mike’s here. 

Once he’s inside, he stays rooted to the spot, eyes coming up to look at Hopper. He doesn’t make eye contact, but he’s glaring at his shoulder, enough to get the message across. Will notices with a stab that he’s still wearing his red pyjamas - because of course he is - accentuating the red lines around his eyes, and, Will can’t help but cringe again, his swollen lips. He knows what they must look like. Freaking out had definitely made it weirder - if they’d just pretended like he’d snuck in as ... to just have a regular sleepover, maybe it wouldn’t have been weird. Maybe they still don’t think it’s weird. 

Will is too miserable to think. 

“Will, honey, please sit down.” His mom says, the same voice that has managed to calm him down so many times before. Steady and reliable, good words to follow. It’s not doing much good now, but he tries to tell himself that it does. “We just want to talk.”

Will is barely aware of his body moving, eyes glued to the floor as he walks around the bed and sits down on Mike’s side of the mattress, facing them. He’s perched on the edge, not daring to get comfortable, as if he needs to be ready to get up and run whenever.

“Mike, you too, honey.” 

After a moment of hesitation, Mike does as told, careful as if he’s thinking twice about every move. He doesn’t sit, though, instead standing next to Will, facing Hopper still with that stubborn glare in his eyes, arms crossed over his chest. 

“Look, I know I should have snuck in but it was just last minute and-“ Mike starts rambling after a second, trying to cover, voice laced with that defensive anger that graces him so rarely. It makes it harder to believe, but there’s no reason to doubt their words either. Mike looks like he’s itching to jump out the window again, but knows it’s not an option. His body is taut, so tense it looks painful, clearly wound up for a fight.

“No need to lie, kid-“ Hopper starts, but Mike immediately cuts him off. 

“No, fuck you, you don’t know anything-“ he tries to push past Hopper, back to the window. Will knows it’s probably just a need to move, not the actual intention of escaping, but his heart breaks seeing Mike so upset, so angry and frustrated - so helpless. “This is so stupid- it’s none of your business-” 

“No- hey,” Hopper says, voice firm but not loud, just enough to catch their attention, to stop Mike in his tracks, “Sit down, please.”

Mike is still eyeing him wearily, jaw clamped shut, a sense of fear and misery mirroring Will’s own. Still, he sits down on the edge of the bed next to him, and Will notices the way his hand twitches in his lap as if he wants to reach out to grab Will’s. 

Will can’t look at Hopper, having claimed Will’s desk chair and facing them, so he looks at his mom instead. She’s standing next to Hopper, not needing to sit down in order not to tower over him and Mike. She’s smiling, but it’s a bit too forced, unable to hide her pensive eyes. 

“Look, boys,” she starts. “You just can’t sneak through the window like that, okay? It’s dangerous and the neighbors -“ she trails off, clearly uncomfortable, like she doesn’t want to say it, but Will knows what’s supposed to follow. The neighbors will think.

“Will, honey, will you please look at me.” Will does as asked, feeling absolutely miserable to have his mother’s kind eyes on him. “I hope you know we’re not mad at you.”

Will swallows, eyes trained on his mom as they start stinging with tears. He doesn’t dare believe her, despite her never having lied to him before.

“You know we’ll always love you, right?” She glances at Hopper next to her who nods, face serious but calm. 

Noticing the doubt in Will’s eyes, her voice softens if possible even more. 

“Oh, honey, I’ve always known there was a chance you might be g-gay.” She struggles over the word, as if it’s unfamiliar in her mouth, unsure if she’s using it correctly, but her eyes shift to Mike, and Will catches a smile tug at her lips. “- a pretty big chance - and that doesn’t mean I love you any less. Nothing could ever make me love you less.” 

Will’s throat is burning, his eyes are clouded over with tears that he’s still too afraid to let fall. His mom’s words wash over him like a balm, lifting the weight off his chest that has been there for so long he hadn’t known he’d been carrying it. 

“And I’m overjoyed for you that Mike feels the same. I really am.”

“It didn’t have to be Mike-,” Hopper grumbles under his breath. He’s immediately nudged into silence by Joyce, but Will is already chuckling through his tears. 

Something in his chest seems to pop, like he’s taking his first breath of air in forever, like he’s able to exhale for the first time in his life. 

“Mom-“ Will can barley get the word out of his lips as he pushes himself up, straight into his mother’s arms. They wrap around him, holding him tightly as she coos in his ear, running a hand through his hair the way she has done since he was a little kid. 

When he finally lets go, he turns towards Hopper but stops himself, unsure. Hopper raises his hands just enough to be an invitation, and Will smiles as he bends down to hug him as well. Hopper melts into it easily, holding Will close in a way Will’s own father had never done.

It’s only when he pulls back that he hears a sniff that isn’t his cut through the room. 

“Oh, Mike, honey-“ Joyce is on the other side of Mike in a second, sitting down next to him and pulling him into a hug as well. Mike clings onto her like a little kid, shaking with sobs that break Will’s heart. He knows there’s nothing he can do - knows that there is nothing he can do for Mike when it comes to this - but he sits back down next to him, unable to stop himself from reaching out, even if just to grip onto Mike’s shirt, a steady reminder that he’s there. 

He can hear his mom whispering soothing words in Mike’s ears as well, but he can’t understand her from this distance and doesn’t pry. He simply allows himself to sit, to touch Mike, and to be filled with so much love for him that it feels like he’s going to burst. 

It takes a few moments for Mike to calm down, his sobs ebbing away with Joyce’s words. It takes even longer for his mom to finally let go of him, to allow Mike to sit up straight again as her hand stays in his hair, falling down to rub soothing circles into his shoulder. 

Silence falls over them, Mike sniffling as he wipes at his eyes. He leans away from Joyce, pressing into Will instead, head resting on Will’s shoulder. His arm immediately comes up to wrap around Mike’s back, hugging him closer against him. It feels so weird to be intimate like this in front of his parents, and yet, it’s nothing they haven’t seen before. Will allows that thought to settle in his chest; to calm and comfort him. This isn’t weird, this isn’t bad, this isn’t vile or disgusting or whatever everyone else says. 

This is just them, two boys who’ve cared about each other their entire lives. Just because they’re older now doesn’t mean this isn’t any less innocent. That this shouldn’t be allowed anymore. 

“Kid,” Hopper speaks up eventually, glancing up to catch Mike’s eyes as Mike wipes at his nose with his sleeve. His voice is even softer than before, quiet and genuine. “You know I didn’t mean that right?“

“Yeah, you did,” Mike cuts in with a loud, resigned sigh, but he’s smiling, in on the joke. Hopper mirrors his expression as he reaches out to put a comforting hand on Mike’s head, ruffling his hair. Mike, surprisingly, allows it to happen, smile wider than before.  

After a moment, he watches his mom share a look with Hopper before she speaks up again. “Bottomline is, boys, that you can’t just sneak through the window.”

“You let Nancy do it,” Will doesn’t know why he’d spoken up. He shouldn’t have; he’s lucky enough as it is that his parents aren’t mad at them, that they’re this okay. That they still love him. But there’s this instinct, this childhood petulance, present in any younger sibling, always ready to complain about unfair treatment. He hadn’t had to use his in a very long time. 

“Gross.” Mike pulls a face.

“I know, honey, but that’s- this is different. For one, we have neighbours now. And it’s just… it’s different for you boys. You understand that, right?”

Even though it’s a depressing thought, Will joins Mike in nodding. Maybe it had been stupid - his parents had figured it out, surely the neighbours had an even better view of Will’s bedroom window. If they were lucky, they’d eventually assume Mike is just sneaking in to see El all the time, but Will does not enjoy that thought either. They have to be more careful - people had stopped throwing slurs at him once he’d gotten back from Lenora, filled out and apparently cool enough now; He’s not looking forward to them finding reason to start using them again. 

His friends at least are okay with it, that’s more than enough for now. 

“So,” Mike starts after another moment of silence, sitting up straighter and glancing between Joyce and Hopper. He looks exhausted but calm, and though Will misses the pressure of him on his shoulders, Mike grabbing onto his hand instead is enough to keep him happy. “What are the boundaries?”

“You know you’re always welcome here, Mike, but we have a front door for a reason.”

“And because we’re aware you can’t just go make out behind the cinema like regular teenagers, we won’t even force you to sleep in the guest room,” Hopper adds, voice steady and firm, “All we ask in turn, is that you leave the -“

“Door open three inches, yeah, yeah.” Mike’s smiling is teasing but relieved, so soft it makes Will’s heart melt. Hopper smiles back at him, ruffling his hair again as he moves to stand up. 

Will’s heart beats a steady rhythm in his ear, strong and reassuring, an enchanting hymn. His fingers are running through his hair, a comforting scratch that pulls every negative thought from Mike’s brain. 

They’re laying in bed again, door open three inches this time, spilling soft light into the dark room. It’s strangely soothing, the sound of the TV downstairs and Mrs. Byers’ voice a soft murmur in the distance. 

Mike’s mind is empty.

 He feels like every emotion has been cried out of him, everything gone but the awareness of Will’s body beneath him. He’s sprawled over him, head on his chest, arm thrown over his stomach, clutching as if he can pull him any closer than he already is. He can’t see Will’s face, but he knows he must be staring at the ceiling in thought, mind spinning just as much as Mike’s. 

If it had been bad for him, he can’t imagine what it must have been like for Will. They’re his parents after all. 

Though Mike doesn’t know what he would have done if they’d suddenly hated him. If he’d been banned from the house that feels more like home than anywhere else, despite the Byers only living here for a year. 

Part of him is jealous, but he buries that jealousy as deep as it can go. 

“I’m sorry about your family.” Will’s soft voice breaks the silence, speaking up for the first time in what could be five minutes or five hours since they’d been left alone again. Mike can feel the rumble of his words in his ear where it’s pressed over Will’s right lung. He's not surprised Will has guessed what's on his mind.

Mike swallows, tracing his finger over the pattern of Will’s pajama shirt. Their legs are tangled underneath the covers, and he focuses on the way he’s pushed up and down by Will’s chest underneath him. 

“Is it weird that I want to go home and hug my mom?” Mike asks, voice small even to his own ears. 

“Then go home and hug her.” Will’s voice is soft but steady, shocking Mike with its resolution. 

He shifts on top of Will, aligning his arm with Will’s collarbone and propping his chin on top of it so he can frown dubiously down at him. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.” Will says with certainty, pushing himself up a bit until Mike is forced to move off of him. They sit up facing each other, Will reaching out to grab Mike’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Mike… something big happened and you want to be with your mom now… trust me, I get it.”

“But what if-,” Mike stumbles over his words, feeling like he’s swallowing tears, unable to bring himself to say it. He’s always knows it was a possibility - a certainty, really. But actually saying it, acknowledging it even just to himself… he doesn’t know how he’d be able to handle it. It’s a strangely embarrassing thought as well. He glances down at their locked hands. “What’s the point if-“

“The point is that you can be with them now.” Will’s soft voice is accentuated by Will’s hand coming up to cup Mike’s cheek, gently pushing until Mike is forced to meet Will’s eyes again. They’re pretty eyes, a different color each time yet always so Will, always filled with so much strength and affection. Mike still doesn’t know how he does it - so open and vulnerable even after everything he’s been through. “You don’t have to preemptively push them away.”

Mike really wants to believe him. More than anything. He wants to believe it’s that simple, that he can go home and have it be exactly what he needs, exactly what he’d want and expect. He knows that’s rarely - if ever - the case. 

His parents are probably busy anyway, busy with Holly or already asleep on the couch. 

But thinking about his mom… 

“Seriously-,” Will insists after another moment, “-go watch a movie with your parents or something. What happens tomorrow or the day after that doesn’t matter. Don’t deny yourself these things if it’s what you want.”

Mike allows a smile to creep on his face, Will’s thumb tracing it gently, and Mike leans into Will’s hand, still cupping his cheek.

“I love you too,” he says, pressing a kiss to Will’s thumb, “I didn’t get to say it earlier, before-… but I do.”

“I know, you moron,” Will rolls his eyes, but the blush on his cheeks is instantaneous, eyes darting away from Mike as he smiles down at his lap, trying to hide. “I can survive without you saying it back for once.” 

“I know-,” Mike grins at him, his chest feeling like mush. He leans forward to kiss Will, stopping just shy of their lips touching. “-but you shouldn’t have to.”

Will pushes forward before he can, his kiss strong and fierce and filled with love. Will radiates it, as if he’s the sun, too bright to look at, blinding with his ability to give him life. Mike can’t look at him without being reminded how much Will loves him, how much he loves Will. It’s not a secret, never been. 

Will must have been blind to ever believe Mike didn’t love him back. 

Of course, the fact he’d dated his sister probably muddled the waters a bit, so he doesn’t hold it against him. 

He breaks the kiss eventually, peppering one on Will’s cheek before leaning back fully. “Walk me out?”

Will pulls him back in for one last kiss, before pushing him to the edge of the bed. “Of course.”

Mike changes back into his clothes, grabbing Will’s hand as they walk down the stairs together. Despite everything, his heart is still beating loudly in his chest as they reach the front door, knowing Hop and Mrs. Byers will surely see them. The thought that this is okay still not fully registering. 

They’re not on the couch in the living room, but Mike can hear them in the kitchen across the hallway. They seem to have heard them as well, because Mrs. Byers leans over until she can see them through the open doorway, small frown on her face. “You’re leaving?”

“Yeah,” Mike responds, blushing down at the floor. It feels so childish to admit he wants his mother. Mrs. Byers seems to understand he doesn’t want to elaborate though, because her smile softens as she walks over to meet them and doesn’t ask for a clarification. 

“Okay, but be safe.” She pulls him into a hug, and Mike wraps her arms around her gratefully. He has to bend slightly now to accommodate her. He remembers earlier, when she’d spoken reassuring words in his ear that he’d been too distraught to really catch. Yet he knows they were promises of acceptance and protection - he’ll never forget that.

“I will.” He glances at Hopper who’s watching them from the kitchen. He smiles at him too, waving slowly before turning back to Will and pulling him into a tight hug. 

Will squeezes him for a long time, before they break away and say their ‘until tomorrow’s’. 

Will stays in the doorway until he’s pulled his bike out of the hedges at the side of the property, his usual hiding place, and he can feel Will’s eyes follow him down the streets as he starts his way home. He’s glad it’s spring now, the air no longer freezing. 

It goes by quickly, the single thought of wanting to be home pushing his legs to go faster. 

“Michael?” His mom sits up straighter on the couch in the sitting room, watching in confusion as Mike closes the front door behind himself. He’d thought this to be the safer option, his parents usually in the TV room by now. Clearly, he’d miscalculated. “I thought you were upstairs.”

“Oh, uhm, no I just went out for a bit,” Mike responds, sheepish. He feels strangely shy in front of his own mother, taking a step further into the lounge. “I - can we watch a movie?”

“Who’s we?” She frowns, blinking as she looks around him as if expecting to find someone else. Holly’s pink pants are in her lap, needle in hand. 

“We. Us. The two of us.” Mike stumbles over his words, trying to keep his hands still by his side. 

“O-of course,” his mom looks taken aback as she puts her sewing down, clearly surprised at the request he knows she hasn’t heard in years - if ever. It makes Mike’s ears burn, embarrassed at the childish need but also feeling strangely guilty for not asking for it more. “Yes, of course we can. Poltergeist is playing tonight, I think.”

He can’t stop the grin creeping onto his face. “You like Poltergeist?”

“I don’t know-,” she shrugs. “- haven’t seen it yet. But the only other option is The Great Mouse Detective and if I have to watch that one more time I’m going to lose it.”

A surprised laugh is pulled form Mike as his mom gets up from the couch and walks over. She stops short of Mike, sending him an inquisitive look. “Is everything okay, Mike?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” He responds, because he is. For the first time in a very long time, he feels like he actually is. 

“Alright,” she smiles, arm coming up to wrap around his upper back, guiding him in the direction of the kitchen. “Let’s go make some popcorn.”