Chapter Text
Tuesday, June 13th 1989.
Will’s eyes flutter open and he’s on his back, one hand thrown over his head and his hips stiff from not having moved for a long period of time. His mouth is dry and he groans raspily in the first light quiet when he tries to move his arm over his face. It’s too heavy and tingling and hurts in that weird way something you can’t actually feel hurts. He winces, eyes squinting shut and mouth twisted, and his arm plops heavily on his chest. When he looks down at it he realizes it is bare. Will quickly cranes his neck and glances over the edge of the bed. His shirt is crumpled up on the floor, having been tossed off during some scorched, middle of the night, dream ridden fit.
He has those. More often than not now; panicked and muddled night time visions. Thoughts of the decaying Upside Down and black shadows that try to tear their way inside of him, blearily mixed up with constellations of freckles and his own fingers clawing at the slick, hot skin of his best friends back as his lips paint seared kisses into the crook of Mike’s neck. They are all wrapped up together in one anxious, melded fever dream of his darkest fears, desires… and sickening shame. It’s a strange marionette play put on display for Vecna. One in which the monster pulls every string to torment his prey. And torment Will he does. Each and every night since he was twelve years old. Ever since he devoured his body and mind against his will.
But now it’s morning and Will is cold. He tries to swallow away how his heart flutters in his chest when he risks a glance to his left. Mike… is there , a mere ten inches ( if that ) away from him. Will tugs the covers up over his torso and squeezes his eyes shut as he thanks whatever non-existent entity watches over them that he is still asleep.
He takes the opportunity rarely given to him and peeks shyly at Mike again. He is spread out on his stomach in the grey light of the morning, one arm curled tightly to his chest and the other wrapped around his sad, flimsy pillow. (The one he is stuck with after insisting Will take the one he normally uses) His eyelashes flutter prettily across his cheeks and his mouth is relaxed and lips swollen from sleep. The white tank top he wears is twisted tight around his body and his breathing is heavy, and Will hates the way he thinks he looks even more beautiful this way. It’s embarrassing really, how much he enjoys seeing Mike so tangled and mussed up in his childhood bed. It feels so...domestic. And it makes Will’s mind wander to other things- like college dorms, and apartments, and houses with a cat or a dog or something. It makes him think of folding laundry and decorating a tree and....babies??He blushes at that thought. These are impossible things. These are things his brother and Nancy might have one day, but not him.
Will examines the headboard and plaid sheets they're laying in. It isn't really Mike's childhood bed. It’s bigger and better suited for a teenage boy who’s long limbs, hands and feet suggest he’ll be nothing short of six foot two by the time he’s finished growing.
Mike’s parents must have switched the bed out sometime while Will was in California because he doesn’t remember it. But nor does he remember Mike being so tall either. Will isn’t even sure Mike could grow any more because he for certain can't possibly get much skinnier. He’s all taught skin and sinewy muscle stretched over broad shoulders and long bones.
Will loves how his features are made up of contrasts: delicate lines and feminine fullness around his lips that oppose the strong, curved lines of his nose, black hair so dark and white skin so pale. It makes Will think of the character Dream in that new comic Dustin had sent him in the mail accompanied by a very long handwritten letter that caught him up on everything his best friends were up to. It was such a welcome thing while he sat in sunny exile in California. It helped when it was too quiet at night in his new neighborhood, and he missed Mike so badly that his chest felt like it would tear in two. He would imagine Mike as Dream in the comic, in the story. And it’s such a vague resemblance, such a far stretch, that Will can’t be sure if it was only his own preoccupied thoughts that brought it into fruition or if it was somehow deliberate on Dustin’s part. But one thing is for sure: he would never, ever ask about that.
It will never be something he can ask.
Will tears his eyes away from his sleeping friend and huffs, blowing his overgrown bangs back from his forehead. He startles when he hears Mike’s raspy voice greet him. “Good morning,” he says lowly. Will turns his head and swallows nervously. “Hi,” he whispers, his own voice still thick with sleep. He clears his throat.
“Are you okay?” Mike asks, pushing himself up on his elbow and rubbing his eye.
No! Will is not okay! Somehow he’s found himself spending his last weeks before inevitable doom and most likely death, being tortured . Because it’s a perfectly normal thing for two best friends to bunk together when he and his brother are staying with the Wheeler’s until whenever his mom and Hop can find somewhere for them all to live. It’s perfectly normal for them to share a bed, because that’s not weird at all for two best friends. It’s perfectly normal for him to borrow all Mike’s clothes and….it’s perfectly normal for him to think his best friend, is in this moment, the most adorable fucking thing he’s ever seen. He wants to scream.
“I’m fine,” Will breathes, trying to smile, fighting off the urge to pull the covers over his head. His ears burn and it creeps hotly around his neck.
Mike’s brows go together in confusion. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, yeah—.”
Mike nods at him, but Will can tell by his face that he doesn’t believe him. If only you knew what it was really about, Will thinks dolefully. Mike flops onto his back and rests his hands on his chest and sighs. He gazes up at his blank ceiling and opens his mouth like he’s going to say something, but then doesn’t. A beat passes between them before Mike finally speaks.
“Hey, uhm, so I wanted to tell you that I’m—-well—I’m really happy you’re here.”
Will sits up suddenly, blushing even more when he notices Mike’s eyes fall to his chest and belly. He wraps his arm around himself, feeling very, very naked.
Mike sits up too, leaning up against his headboard and pulling his knees tight to his chest. He pulls at his fingers nervously. “You know—I mean I guess—it’s just nice not being alone, ya know?”
Will nods. Yes. He completely understands. “Yeah–” he agrees, smiling. “I mean—I’m happy too. To be with you—I mean….” he stumbles over his words. “It’s just nice being back since I was away for so long.”
“It’s just too bad,” Mike replies, smiling, his brown eyes a peculiar mixture of sadness and amusement.
Will’s brow creases, suddenly feeling like he’s missed the punchline of a joke. He shakes his head. “What’s too bad?”
“It’s too bad it has to be the end of the world and all.” Mike grins at him and Will can’t take his eyes off how the sides of his eyes crinkle and how his pink flushed lips spread prettily across bright white teeth. He can’t help but grin back at him.
“For sure,” he says and then continues lightheartedly, “It’s not exactly how I imagined us hanging out again though if I'm being honest.” Mike laughs at that and for a brief second it feels light between them, like when they used to read comics together in Mike’s basement, feet kicking excitedly as they laid cheek to cheek hidden away in his blanket fort. When everything was simple. When everything made sense. Sometimes Will wishes things could just go back to that. Before his love changed. Before the Upside Down.
A wave of sadness suddenly floods over him as he realizes that it would never be like that ever again. His love has grown and changed the same way he has changed over the last ten years. He is on the brink of adulthood and his love for Mike has also become something much more complicated and adult. Something Mike could never understand. His smile falters and Mike stops laughing when he notices. His eyes watch him closely and his face turns serious when he asks, “How did you imagine us hanging out again?”
Will lets out a surprised sigh, caught off guard by how Mike’s smile has faded and his tone has turned solemn. Curious.
“Uhm–I don’t know—I guess—I just imagined us watching a movie or something in the basement. Something simple.” he chuckles softly. “Something monster free and warm.”
Mike sits up fully and moves away from his headboard, opening his legs into a criss-cross and facing him directly. His knee brushes Will’s as he nods at him. “Yeah,” he says sadly. Happily. “That sounds nice.” He hums as he thinks on it. “No DnD?”
Will blushes. “I mean–well yeah—I’ve thought about that too, but I haven’t played in so long—”
Mike frowns. “When’s the last time you played?”
Will rubs his hands nervously down his thighs. “Uhm–well it was when we did my campaign.”
Mike’s mouth drops, his eyes widening in disbelief. “Will! You didn’t play for the last two years?”
Will shrugs and bites his bottom lip. “Well yeah—there wasn’t a club to join or anything like Hellfire and I didn’t really have money for a new set, but you know–I was hoping you’d bring your game when you came out to visit, but—well—you know what happened.”
Mike raises his eyebrows knowingly as he sucks in a deep breath and sighs. “Yeah—-I know.” He purses his lips and Will notices his energy has grown nervous. “Hey—-you want—well-- what if we watched a movie tonight after we are done volunteering at school? Together. Just you and me.”
Will glances at him in surprise. “Really?”
“Yeah, yeah. I know we were supposed to go over Dustin’s, but I’ll just tell him my mom made us do chores or something. He’ll be fine anyway. He can talk to Suzie.”
Will beams at him. “Okay—that would actually be—-awesome.”
“Yeah?” Mike asks excitedly.
“Yeah.”
Mike's smiling at him, his eyes fully awake and bright now, and Will's cheeks burn even more when he can't look away, but can't think of anything left to say either.
Boys!!!! Breakfast!!! Mike's mom calls loudly from the stairwell. Come down! You have to be at the school in a half hour!
Mike and Will both startle and it propels Mike off the bed instantly and scouring the floor for his jeans.
"Shit, shit, shit!" he mutters under his breath.
Will is up too, rummaging through his backpack for some clean clothes. He holds them tight to his chest.
"Hey," he says as he heads quickly to the door. "I'm just gonna hop in the shower real quick. I don't need breakfast."
Will's stomach is in knots anyway and he just needs a minute alone. He has got to get away from Mike before he says or even worse does something he'll regret. His cheeks won't stop burning and Mike's eyes are on him and the room is too small. They're too close. And he would have never said yes to this arrangement if he knew how maddening it would be!
"Will---" Mike calls to him. Will stops and turns quickly, already halfway through the door. Mike's standing in his room holding his blue jeans, having already pulled his plain, black t-shirt over his head. He smiles sweetly at him. "You gotta eat...I'll save you some toast okay?"
Will beams again, despite himself. He desperately tries to ignore the butterflies that flutter in his stomach. It's all those stupid little things, isn't it? Like eggs and morning showers and toast and kisses on the cheek before heading to work. "Thanks Mike," he murmurs before quickly closing the door and all but running for the bathroom. He needs to wash away the entire morning and they've only been awake for an hour, and it suddenly dawns on him that staying with Mike might by far be the stupidest thing Will's ever agreed to. At this point, Vecna might not even have to lift a finger. Because Will isn’t even going to make it to the end of world.