Archive of Our Own

For the first time since they arrived at Hawkins, Will had his bedroom all to himself.

Well…to say it was Will’s would be inaccurate. An oversell in a way. Because it wasn’t just “his” room. El and Jonathan also slept there. That was the first issue. The second would be the use of “Will’s.” The possessiveness that came with the phrase implies a sense of ownership that wasn’t there. A suggestion that it was his. But it wasn’t. This wasn’t his room. It wasn’t his place. Nothing about the room screamed such. 

For one, the walls were too bare. They lacked all the posters that Will had collected over the years – fragments of his personality, of his interests, splayed on the wall. Which, yes, it wasn’t a huge deal. Obviously, it’s not a big deal. It’s just posters at the end of the day. Paper and ink and nothing else, and it shouldn't be a big deal, and Will knew that. He knew it. He was just being stupid. 

It just…it helped to look up to have them there. Which is stupid to admit. But, they felt very grounding to Will. Whenever he was thinking too much or whenever he was just paralysed with fear, it just helped for him to have something to remind him where he was. An anchor of sorts.

‘Ah yes, I’m in my room. These are my stuff. I know these walls. I know where I am. I’m okay.’

It also gave him a sense of control over his environment. He got to choose what to see. He got to decide which poster worked and which did not, or which one he wanted to see whenever he decided to paint, or which he wanted on top of his bed. All of that stuff. Like he did when he moved to Lenora.

That’s what made it his. That was Will’s room. Even when everything else about the place felt so foreign, his room wasn’t. It was a part of Hawkins that he managed to pocket up and take across the country. Except, it was still there. Or, maybe it was blown up or destroyed when the shooting occurred. He didn’t know, and he hated that he didn’t know. It was in a weird limbo. A state of indefiniteness, if you will. 

His own version of Schrödinger’s cat: Will Byers’s bedroom. Intact or Destroyed? Who knows! 

He needed to stop thinking about this. He was just being stupid. He needed to just ignore it all. Ignore all the cassettes he just lost. Ignore the fact he doesn’t have any of his art supplies. Ignore the paintbrushes that he had left unwashed thinkinghe had the time to do it later that day. Ignore how stiff they probably got. Ignore how now he couldn't use them on all the unfinished sketches he planned on completing that spring break. Just Ignore. Ignore, ignore, ignore. 

He just needed to stomach it all for now. The feeling would fade overtime. Yeah, he just needed time.

For now, he could try and just be content with the situation at hand. Everyone was out today so that was a plus. Will had the shared room all to himself. A perfect opportunity for him to just lay on the bed without having to fight for it. A perfect time to pull out the one sketchbook he managed to pack before all hell broke loose. And a perfect time to simply draw. A perfect way to escape everything going on internally and externally right now.

A perfect d--

“Hey,” Mike’s voice rang from the door. “Can we talk?”

Huh, weird, Will thought. He could’ve sworn El had mentioned something about talking with Mike on her list of plans for the day. 

“Uh, yeah sure.” He said, adjusting his seating position – placing his sketchbook and pen to the side and turning to face Mike. He liked giving Mike all of his attention.  “What’s up?” 

Mike paced towards the side of the bed, taking a seat in front of Will. There was a sense of tension in the way Mike held himself. He wasn’t as comfortable as he usually was. His shoulders were stiff and raised. His hands were clasped over his legs as a way to restrain any fidgeting of his fingers. His lips were pursued and his eyebrows wrinkled. There was something on his mind. Will just didn’t know what it was.

“Is everything okay?” Will asked, his back no longer resting comfortably against the board. His eyes remained fixed on Mike as he waited. He didn’t want to push. He just sat silently– letting Mike control the conversation. 

Mike stayed silent. For a while. He just sat there. And, Will tried his best not to pry, not to push – even though the suspense was eating at his mind. He knew something was up. He could tell that. He also knew it was something that weighed on Mike’s mind – something that was affecting him negatively. But that was all he knew. He didn’t know what it was. He didn’t know why Mike was here and not with El. He didn’t know what was going to happen. And that terrified him. This was Mike though. He shouldn’t feel like this.

“Did you lie to me?” 

“What?”

“About the painting,” Mike emphasised. “Did you lie to me about the painting? About El commissioning it – that- that she needed me – that I made her feel better for being different – that I was the heart – about…all of that, everything, all of it. Did you lie?”

Will's throat felt dry. 

“I fucking knew it.” Mike scoffed. 

“Mike, I’m sorry. I–"

“Why?” Mike looked up at Will. His jaw clenched. He was mad– hurt. And Will wanted to scream. Because how did he just manage to always screw everything up.

He knew it was a bad idea. He knew he shouldn’t have lied or meddled or tried to fix things. He knew he was going to make it worse. He knew this was going to happen. He knew. He knew. And yet, he couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t help but intervene because of his dumb feelings. He was so stupid.

“Why? Why’d you lie?” Mike repeated, raising his voice before cutting himself off – taking a deep breath. “Why’d you lie to me?”

‘To me.’ Such a simple string of words. Two words to be specific, but it killed Will. It made Will feel worse. It made him feel guilty. 

He should’ve known that the lie would’ve backfired eventually. It was dumb to believe that Mike wouldn’t bring it up with El, or that El herself wouldn’t have commented on finally seeing what he had been painting for months. He shouldn’t have done it. It was incredibly risky. But, he was weak. He couldn’t help it. He couldn’t watch Mike hurt in front of him. And, he was being selfish. He just wanted to see Mike smile. He just wanted him to be okay and he didn’t think it through. He never did. Not when it came with Mike.

Little good that did him.

“Will?”

“I-I don’t know.” The words shot out of Will’s mouth. He wasn’t really thinking out what he was going to say at this point. His whole body was overstimulated. Everything was too much– too different. There was nothing normal with him. Nothing to ground him– nothing to hold onto. No posters on the wall. No easel in the corner. No…No Mike. 

“You don’t know?” Mike repeated. He was in disbelief. Will was hyperventilating at this point, but he tried to compose himself – slightly nodding in response. 

“You’re lying to me.”

“I’m not.” His voice shaked. He’s so pathetic.“You are. I know you are.” Will wanted to throw up.

I know you are. Will hated that. He hated how definitive it was. Mike knew him. And he took advantage of that. Of how much he knew Will. Of how well he knew Will. Of how much Will gave himself to MIke. He took it and used it against him and Will wanted to scream.

“Can we not talk about this-- please?” Will looked at Mike – pleading, begging with him. Hoping Mike would give him this – give him an out. Just for now. 

Mike’s eyes faltered. For one second, he looked at Will with care. For one second, he looked like maybe he was going to drop it– like maybe he was going to cave for now. And for a second, Will thought he could breathe. But that was only a second. 

Because Mike immediately looked away, squinting his eyes shut and shaking his head as he continued.

“You lied to me, Will,” Mike stressed. “You don’t do that. We don’t do that. And– and you hurt me? You lied and you hurt me and I need to know why.” 

…Will knew he could never win against Mike.

“You– were sad.” Will finally caved, his words slow. “And I wanted to help– and I knew nothing I said would help. So what was I supposed to do?” 

“Not lie.” 

“But it helped you, didn't it? You started smiling more. And you and El made up. And everything was okay. So why does I or what I said matter? Everything worked out.”

“Because you–” Mike began to yell before cutting himself off, holding his hand out as he looked to the floor and took another deep breath. “We don’t lie. That’s not us.”

“Why does it matter, Mike?”

“Because it does!”

“Why?”

“It just does, Will!”

“Mike, I don’t know what you want from me!” Will yelled. 

His eyes widened.

He– he didn’t mean to yell. He wasn’t going to. He wasn’t. He didn’t like yelling. His yells always made him sound weak. They were never these strong roars that just felt powerful. That demanded the respect of others. That told him he was serious and he was strong and that he wasn’t going to break. No. His yells were frail. They were thin. They were cracked, and they only amplified how weak he was and how incapable he was at being big– at fighting back.

This yell. It was a lot. It was too much. It said too much. It showed parts that Will wanted to hide from people, from Mike. He hated how much Mike broke him to his barest being. He hated being exposed.

Both boys remained silent at that point. There was a shift in the room’s energy. Will should’ve stopped then and there. He should’ve just apologised and ran out to god knows where. He should’ve ran until his legs gave out– or until he felt the nausea begin to overwhelm him. He should’ve just ran. And yet, he didn’t. Instead, he stayed and he waited. 

Because he’s the biggest idiot in the entire world. Because it was Mike. Because he cared. Because, even mad, part of Will – the stupidest part of him, just wanted Mike to confess. To reveal that he wanted Will the way Will wanted him. And he knew it was silly. He already accepted that wasn’t a possibility….It was just– there was something in the air that suggested that– that maybe it was possible. Maybe Mike wanted more. 

But he didn’t. Of course he didn’t. Instead, Mike just stayed quiet. He didn’t answer Will. Not in his words, not in his actions, nothing. He just left the words– the implications, to dangle. Leaving Will unanswered. Leaving him alone, again. Again, Will could hear the thunder and rain. Again, he could feel the water drench him as he ran. Again, he could feel the weight of everything collapse on his chest. And again, he wanted to scream. 

….

Will should’ve known he was just being stupid. 

“Just– just leave.” 

“What?” Mike whispered– perhaps out of confusion or disbelief. Will couldn’t really tell. He didn’t have the energy to decipher anything anymore. He just wanted to take things at face value. Nothing he assumed about Mike was correct anymore – so why does it matter?

Mike wasn’t excited to see him in the airport. He didn’t care about him in Rink o’Mania. He’ll still choose El over Will. He loved El and not Will. He’s just Will’s friend. It’s not Mike’s fault Will’s like this.  

“I just– I’m tired, Mike.” His voice cracked. He hated it. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I’m sorry I–” He paused, 

“I’m sorry I can’t give you what you want.”

Both boys were quiet again. And for once, Will didn’t bother to fill the silence between them. He meant what he said – at least at that moment. He was tired. He was stressed. He didn’t know why Mike was so obsessed with this single lie. He doesn’t even know how to fix things anymore. 

And he was tired of trying to fix things. 

Maybe he will regret this tomorrow morning. Maybe all of this was just in the heat of the moment feelings. Maybe he won’t feel this way for longer than an hour. And maybe he’ll beat himself up for ever feeling this way, but he couldn’t take it anymore. Not right now at least. Not with everything. Things kept getting worse. None of Will’s efforts ever seem to work anymore. He thought he could do this. He thought he could be there for Mike– as a friend. And yet, he can’t do that without messing up.

Maybe Will was just not good enough for Mike.

“Will–”

“Just leave, please. I can’t keep doing this.” He omits the words ‘right now’ from his speech. It wasn’t intentional, but it was subconscious. Part of him meant it. And Mike knew. And Will knew he knew.  

So, Mike sat there for a while. He tried to reply at first– likely to interject, but he quickly shut himself up. Probably to contemplate what to do next. And Will waited. Like he always did. Because even tired, and even when he’s essentially given up, he can’t help but wait. He didn’t know what he was waiting for. He didn’t know why he was waiting either. But it was Mike, and Will always waited for Mike. 

Such absolutes aren’t easily broken.

“Okay.” Mike whispered. An acceptance of defeat. 

He stood up quickly afterwards. His eyes remained on the ground, his hands dropped to his side, and turned to the door. Again, he stopped – or hesitated – before finally walking out of the room.

And Will was alone…just like before. Just like he wanted to be…

Great.

***

It had been two weeks since Mike had last talked to Will. Since the fight. 

Would what happened even be considered a fight? Mike couldn’t really say. His main understanding about what was and wasn’t a fight came from his family. Fights for them were typically laced with coarse, piercing screams and words that were thrown around like weapons – with the greatest intent to hurt the other. 

But with Will, it was different. This time at least. There were no daggers, no screams, none of that. 

‘Why does it matter, Mike?’ Will’s words crawl out of Mike’s mind. Even though he tried to force them all down. He didn’t want to think about them.

Don’t get Mike wrong, Will’s words did hurt. A lot. It even hurt at that moment. Just thinking about it. But Mike knew Will didn’t say those words to hurt him. Will wouldn’t do that. Even when angry, even when he raises his voice, he only ever fights back as a way to express his emotions. These weren’t weapons. These were just how Will actually felt. 

‘I’m sorry I can’t give you what you want.’

Perhaps that’s why they hurt so much.

It’s been two weeks since they argued, and Mike felt worse because of it. He hasn’t done much. He stayed in his room most days. Sometimes, if he beats himself enough about it, he goes to the school and volunteers with Dustin, or he’ll visit Lucas and Max at the hospital. It was mainly out of guilt. Which made him feel worse. He felt bad that two of his best friends were experiencing different forms of grief. He hated that he wasn’t there for him. So, even in his groggy state, he goes out and tries to at least be there for them now. 

Usually, this is no problem. He has never bumped into Will before. He knew Will did volunteer. Dustin mentioned it sometimes. And Lucas brought up the fact that Will visited once a few hours earlier than Mike. Neither of them knew about the fight. As far as Mike knew at least. He assumed they probably suspected something at the very least though. It’s rare to see Mike and Will separate. 

They only ever bumped into each other once. It was at the high school. Mike had just greeted Dustin and asked what station to help at. Whilst Dustin was explaining Mike’s task, he caught a glimpse of Will. He was by the pantry, and he was with someone. Robin. Steve’s friend. They looked like they were in a deep conversation. Mike could tell. Will’s posture was more relaxed and he noticed how Will’s hands moved around as he spoke. He was rambling too. Too absorbed in his own words to even notice Mike. And Robin was there beside him – listening to every word.  

What was he saying? Was all Mike could think of. He was naturally a curious person, but it was different with Will. It wasn’t just curiosity. It was a desire. An insatiable need to know everything about the boy. To experience all he could. All his thoughts. All of his paintings. All of his favourite songs. All of him. 

Mike’s chest pain at the last thought. At what it implied. At what he knew it meant. He didn’t want to think about that right now. He just wanted to savour up all he could of Will. It was a little selfish, but he needed this. He let himself divulge in this. In what little moments he could. Just to see Will would do. Just for now. 

“Mike?” Dustin’s words interrupted Mike’s thoughts. He simply hummed a reply, still looking at Will. God, why was he so obvious? His eyes just couldn’t seem to pull away from him. There was just something so captivating about Will. How could one ever look away from him? Ever look away from the living embodiment of a star at the centre of its own solar system? Such great gravity, you couldn’t help but be pulled towards it. It wasn’t Mike’s fault. It was only natural– a force of nature. One of Newton’s laws or something along those lines. He couldn’t really remember. 

“You good?” Dustin asked. Fuck. Mike spaced out again. 

“Yeah, just tired.” Finally being able to pull his eyes away from Will for a second. Just to reassure Dustin he was okay. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright. Just go over there and help sort the clothes.”

“Can do.” Mike sluggishly saluted his friend before walking towards the table of clothes. He began to mindlessly fold and sort. He hoped that the task was enough of a distraction to stop himself from staring.

His eye bags helped in weighing his eyes down.

Two weeks since they’ve interacted and Mike has gotten minimal sleep. It wasn’t a purposeful decision. He tried. A lot. He wished he could sleep, but he couldn’t. He would always feel too restless to sleep. He would toss and turn before getting up and heading out for a walk. The thought was that a walk would solve the restless issue which would mean he could finally sleep. And sometimes it did. Majority of the time, it just let his mind wander beside him. 

Every street and every store, regardless of their current state, had memories woven into its infrastructure. They were one and the same. When Mike saw the place, he saw the memory – his eyes and brain working in tandem. Two images of vastly different times played simultaneously in his mind. The contrast was astounding. Not just in the look of the place, but there was a contrast in Mike himself. Sure, parts of it was growing up, but a lot was just stupid action after stupid action. 

Each night, and each walk, had led to Mike remembering a new memory. On his first walk, when he passed by the arcade, he remembered the days when him and the party – the original four boys – would spend all their money trying to maintain their high scores in every game. He remembered a time before all of this. Before the upside down. Before the events of November 6, 1983. That day was a catalyst for so much. 

He didn’t know what he would’ve done if he could do that day all over again. Most of him screamed that he would've asked Will to stay that night– or maybe bike with Will home, that way he wouldn’t have been alone. And Mike wished that he did that himself. But he also feels horrible for that wish. If he had asked Will to stay, if none of that would’ve happened, what would’ve happened to El? 

What would’ve happened if they didn’t find her in the woods? Would she have been captured? Tortured in the lab again? Used as a super weapon? Will would hate to know that Mike thought that way. That he would’ve been okay if everything that happened after that night just didn’t happen. If Mike would’ve been okay with never saving El- Will’s sister, one of Mike’s best friends. El. The girl who saved Mike, Will, and everyone countless number of times. The girl who made Mike smile because of how excited she got over learning new things. The girl who, even when breaking up with Mike, held him in her arms and expressed how much she loves him. And he loves her too. He does.

And Mike hated himself for thinking that way. For acknowledging that part of him wished things were different. That things were normal.

On his fifth walk, when he passed by the arcade again, he remembered another memory, almost a year after that night. He remembered how he fought Keith when he asked to date Nancy. How weirded out he felt at such a request. He remembered the first time they encountered the infamous MadMax. He remembered when he saw Will standing outside, looking at the sky. He remembered how he held Will by his side as he ushered them back in. He thought about how he wouldn’t be able to do that today. He didn’t know exactly why though.

The obvious answer was that they weren’t exactly in the best space. But that aside, even if they were okay. Mike wouldn’t be able to do that. Mostly because he couldn’t do it. Not today. Not at his age. He was supposed to grow out of that. Boys and men are different things– according to his dad, to his mom, to his peers, to his friends even. There were distinct differences between the two. Mainly on what you can do as a boy and what you can’t do as a man.

For instance, you can have toys. You’re allowed that. You’re allowed to cherish them. You’re allowed to care for them. But, as a man, you’re supposed to throw them away. It’s a sign of growing up. You no longer see them as toys. They’re ‘hunks of plastic’ according to father of the year Ted Wheeler. Emotional sentiment wasn’t allowed. He had to grow out of it. He either did that himself, or he was forced into it. 

In the case of Mike’s desire to hold Will Byers. That wasn’t allowed. Men weren’t allowed to feel that way. Men were cold. Men were emotionally detached. They were only allowed to like a few things. Sports for one. Going to work, providing for their family, would be another. Maybe even television. 

Girls. That too. 

Mike stopped his thoughts there. He didn’t want to think about that. Nope. No. He didn’t like opening that can of worms. He was just going to ignore that again. He didn’t like what it did to him to think about that. When he entertained certain thoughts, it made him sick to his stomach. He felt disgusting. He felt freak-ish. He felt perverted. Like he was taking advantage of… a certain someone… in his thoughts. How he liked to imagine how it would feel to intertwine hands, or hold one another’s face, or how it felt to kiss his-

‘Nope. Stop that.’ Mike reprimanded himself. He needed to stop. His thoughts weren’t as much of a safe space as he assumed they would be. 

He continued folding the hoodie in his hands. He didn’t know what else to focus on. So he just recited elements in the periodic table, alongside their symbol, whilst he worked. Dull? yes. Boring? Extremely. Mike was nodding off by the time he had gotten to Neon, or Ne. But, at the very least, it was successful in busying his brain– plus it wouldn’t be so bad if he managed to get some sleep out of this. 

But then he heard a laugh.

Will’s laugh, to be specific.

Of course, it would be his laugh. Who was Mike kidding? Even when he wasn’t trying, his ears were automatically attuned to his voice. All of his calibrations were based on Will. Will was his default– his true North.

What was he laughing at? Mike questioned, his eyes darted to where they knew Will was. He was still with Robin, but a new girl had now joined them. Someone from Robin’s class perhaps? Mike thinks he recognises her from the marching band. He remembered her red hair in particular. Although, he couldn’t remember a name. 

They were all smiling together though– Will, Robin and the redhead. And talking. They were so immersed in one another’s company. The only time they would look away from one another was simply to prepare the food. Even then, they were still smiling– they were having fun. Will was having fun. And Mike was just there, watching them. Part of him wanted to smile, the other part of him wanted to scream into the newly folded green sweater in his hand.

Why does it annoy him a bit to see Will okay without him? 

Has he moved on? was the first thought that popped into Mike’s mind. It had always been there as a latent fear, but Mike never had a reason to contemplate the legitimacy of that fear – until now. 

Here Will was, conversing with people– making new friends, laughing like everything was fine. Like what happened didn’t affect him. Did it affect him? Did it hurt Will to be without Mike the same way it hurt Mike? Did he loathe the feeling of emptiness within his personal space, the space that was reserved for Mike? Did he miss Mike?

‘Just leave, please. I can’t keep doing this.’

Did Will truly mean that? From the depths of his soul, did he truly intend for their relationship to end there? Was that a true absolute? 

Was Mike alone?

His thoughts were interrupted when Will finally made eye contact with Mike. Because, of course, Mike had been staring when he spaced out. Of course, he couldn’t help himself. Of course. Of course. Of fucking course.  

Mike continued to stare though. He knew he should’ve looked away, but he couldn’t. He refused to, and he regretted every second he didn’t decide to pull his eyes away. Because he watched as Will’s smile faded when their eyes locked. Even from afar, he could see the dull expression paint Will’s face. He watched Will’s demeanour, once loose and eccentric– once a brightly painting sun, turned stiff– turn dark and grey. For Mike was the moon, and his eclipse of the sun had darkened the world around him. 

Even then though, even when his heart ached at how Will tensed at the sight of Mike, he couldn’t look away. He continued to watch.

He watched Will. He watched as he stared back at him. He watched the boy get called by one of the girls. He watched him pull his eyes off Mike. He watched his whole body turn away from Mike. He watched his lips mutter something Mike couldn’t hear. He watched Will nod at something they told him. He watched Will turn back at Mike again. It was quick but Mike noticed. Of course, he noticed. It was almost like Will wanted to check if Mike was still there– or if he was still staring. And he was. He watched Will turn around fully, and head back to the kitchen. Probably to get more food. Maybe to get away from Mike though.

Mike knew that was the main reason.  

After a minute, Mike returned back to the task Dustin had assigned to him. He folded the clothes and then sorted them into their designated piles: infants, girls, boys, men, and women. He did that for a while. And, with every second that had passed, he tried to ignore the growing pain in his chest and the shaky nature his hands began to develop. He blinked away the water that began to brim in his eyes. He took a deep breath and continued on.

He was just tired. That was all. 

***

Will thought he was pretty good at hiding. 

For better or worse, he knew how to evade any source of danger. It’s what saved him from the Upside Down, after all. He was smart enough to just hide. He knew he couldn’t take on the Demogorgon. He played it safe and he survived because of that. But that was the Upside Down – a literal alternate dimension filled with monsters and evil villains. That was the stuff of fairytales – of a fictional world. Heck, Will still has to convince himself that all of this is even real. It’s so easy to know whether to run when it comes to the stuff of your nightmares. Typically, the answer is yes. Always. Run. 

But now Will’s problems were more than just evil monsters. It was more than a simple yes or no. It was not even a problem, was it? It’s Mike. Mike, Will’s best friend – maybe. Or his ex-best friend, if that was even an official title you could give someone. Which, Will didn’t want to give Mike that title. Even though he technically implied it the last time they talked. Or, fought– that would be a better descriptor of what happened. They fought. And Will pushed Mike away. And he was regretting it now.   

Who was he kidding? Will knew he was going to regret it. He couldn’t even pretend. The second Mike left, Will had to fight the urge to cry on the spot – to just collapse. 

He didn’t though. He managed to hold back for a while. 

Instead of an instantaneous breakdown, it happened slowly. Over the hours, Will would feel more and more sluggish. His eyes were glossier than ever. The number of tears that slipped through would increase. And the piercing feeling in his heart would become a more recurring sensation.

And now, it had been three weeks since that day. Since they’ve talked. Since Will opened his dumb mouth and spoke god knows what words. What did he even say? It’s all just a blur at this point. All he could remember was Mike’s reactions. The look of pain on his face was plastered on every wall in Will’s mind. It was inescapable. How could he do that to him?How could Will hurt Mike?

It annoyed him how much he messes up when it comes to Mike. He had always thought that to love would be the easiest thing in the world to him – especially if it was Mike he loved. He thought that it would be almost second nature to him. Like breathing. He wouldn’t have to think about it. It would just be this automatic thing, like it had always been there. And, at first, that’s how it felt – for Will to love Mike. It was something he couldn’t help. He didn’t even realise it had happened. It wasn’t until the fighting and the rain and the baseball bat and his stupid, stupid feelings that Will knew.  

Or more, Will couldn’t avoid the truth at that point. Part of him had always known. That was the part he repressed the most. He didn’t want to accept it. It felt more like an admission of guilt. He was guilty of all the words thrown at him. They were right at the end of the day. Will was a freak, he was a queer, and he loved a boy. He hated himself for a while because of that. Still does to a certain extent. 

It was easy to love Mike. Will knew that. It wasn’t that part that he struggled with. It was more the expression of said love that he couldn’t do correctly. He always managed to mess that part up. Not on purpose. Obviously not. He just couldn’t help but fumble the bag in every scenario possible. He always did something that cascaded into outbursts or fighting or distance. He just couldn’t love right.  

The past few weeks had been…interesting to say the least. Will’s been using the time to try and move on. Or to at least cope with his feelings better. Maybe he could manage a way to be around Mike without the all too familiar piercing sensation cutting into his heart. If he could hold it together, he could be friends with Mike again. Not being friends wasn’t an option Will was too comfortable with. He didn’t know a life without Mike Wheeler in it. 

Or…maybe it was more the fact he didn’t want a life without Mike. 

Stupid, wasn’t it?

Will needed to stop being stupid.

He hoped that he wasn’t being obvious with his emotions. He knew El was onto him. Jonathan too. But they both weren’t one to pry. Even when they did, Will didn’t budge. Maybe one day he would, but that wouldn’t be anytime soon. Not with them at least. 

It would just be too complicated. Sure, El had broken up with Mike. And, Will assumed she already knew about the whole…painting fiasco. She had enough clues to piece together. But, the idea of Will admitting to his own sister that he was in love with her ex-boyfriend – whilst they were still dating – was just terrifying. What kind of sick twisted brother would do that to his sister? And with Jonathan, Will just felt guilty. He knew his brother wouldn’t mind. Of course, he wouldn’t. But, it still hurt to dump his problems on him. He just didn’t want to bother any of them.

His mom, on the other hand, knew exactly how to get Will to open up

Perhaps it was her motherly instincts, her warm touch, the way she held him, how she spoke with such love, or all of the above, but Will couldn’t help himself. He loved talking to his mom. He loved how safe he felt with her. He loved how easily she broke his walls, how easily she could read him. It made him feel seen. 

She also knew exactly when to approach a topic. It was around the middle of the third week when Joyce popped her head into the shared bedroom. Will had skipped volunteering that day. Partially because he was tired, but mainly because his thoughts finally crashed onto him. He felt its weight when he tried to breathe or move. He felt its jagged, rough texture on his skin. It was all too much. There was no point in trying to fight. 

So, Joyce Byers took the opportunity to talk to him that day. She picked such a perfect day really. No one was home. They were all busy doing god knows what, and it was just her and Will. It was also a day when Will needed someone. Even if he didn’t say it. He needed comfort. More specifically, he needed his mom’s hugs and words of wisdom. And she knew he did. 

“Hey.” She wandered in, waving a packet of Reese's pieces in her hand. “Mind if I keep you company? I brought snacks.”

Will couldn’t help but smile when she did that. It was such a mom thing to do, and yet it always worked on him. He gestured her in, and she sat against the side of Will’s bed. They were silent for a while as Joyce began opening up the pack, and they shared the pieces between themselves. It was nice. She always made moments so nice. 

“So, is everything okay?”

“Hm?” Will hummed a reply. His mouth was still stuffed with chocolate and peanut butter so it took him a second before he could verbally reply. “Yeah…everything’s fine.”

“You sure? You know you can always talk to me – about anything.”

“Yeah, I know that,” Will whispered. Almost like he wasn’t confident in his answer.

It wasn’t that he didn’t know that. He did. And he knew he could. But, with this topic specifically… it was always so hard to open up. Sure, Will had accepted the whole being in love with his best friend to himself, but how does one voice that to the world? Those were two different things. Two different forms of a fact. One was a fact for you and you alone. A secret to yourself. Only you knew it was true. The other was a claim. A statement to the universe. It was way more tangible. Your voice, the particles vibrating as it speaks, a person actually perceiving and registering what you said, actually documenting the words, it's all too physical – too real.

“It’s just,” His mom began. “I don’t know. Lately, I feel like – you’re pulling away a bit. Like there’s a part of you that you’re too scared of letting out. And it’s killing me to see you like that.”

“Mom it’s fi-” 

“And, Mike isn’t here anymore.”

That took Will by surprise. Never in a million years did he think someone – let alone his mother – would ever address the elephant in the room that was the Mike situation. 

“What?” He replied, disbelief straining his vocal cords. He couldn’t even continue the line of questioning his brain began to queue up.

“Will…Honey, I’m your mom.” She smiled. It was a warm smile – a smile of sympathy. “I don’t think I can even remember a time when you and Mike were in the same space, and you guys weren’t attached to the hip. You guys are a package deal. And, I know that nothing could stop that boy from seeing you unless something happened. Unless you asked him to.”

“And I know you, Will.” She teared up a bit, a smile still on her face. “And I know that you would never do that. Not unless you needed to– or unless something happened.”

Will stayed quiet, his eyes were glued to his mom’s though. He couldn’t help it.

She always knew how to make him feel seen.

“I meant what I said, Will.” She continued, her hands reaching out to hold his. Her thumbs rubbed the back of his hands. He couldn’t help but tear up with her. “I am here. I am here, and I will listen if you need me to. I will hold you if you need me to. I will always be here, okay? Nothing will change that. Please, you’re not alone in this. ”

Goddammit, that’s what broke Will in the end.

Just as he did after Jonathan’s speech in the pizza kitchen, Will couldn’t help but break down at that moment. And, just as Jonathan held Will in his arms as he cried, Joyce did the same. She held his head in one arm and embraced him with the other. And Will, the mess he was, just buried himself in her shoulder. He felt bad for staining her shirt with his tears, but she kept whispering that it was fine. 

And so, Will finally let himself just break all at once. 

And his mom was there to hold him together.

They stayed like that for a while. The crying had only lasted for around a minute or two, but Will stayed in his mom’s arms for longer than that. And, she didn’t seem to mind. Her chin rested on his shoulder. Her hands remained in the same places. Although, the one on his lower back had begun to stroke his back in a circular motion. Which…was oddly calming. 

“I’m sorry.” Will finally broke the silence – his cheek now pressed against her shoulder blade.

“Hey,” She said, pulling away from the hug to look him in the eyes. Her hands now gripped both of his arms. It wasn’t tight or anything. It was a gesture Will knew fondly. It was her way of telling him she was still there. That she wasn’t leaving. “You don’t need to apologise for anything.”

Her right hand was now cupping Will’s face, as she gently wiped the tears that were still staining his cheeks. 

“Me and Mike…We fought.” And there it was. The first crack. The wall was no longer as indestructible as it once was. “It was stupid– I was being stupid.” 

His speech was slow. It took a lot to say everything. Will wished it would’ve been easy, a simple rip of the bandaid, but it wasn’t. Instead, he had to think all the words through. Before now, his thoughts were flimsy emotions and images that flashed through his head. They were words that he was throwing at himself. They weren’t real yet. 

But, bit by bit, Will managed to slowly explain the situation to his mom. Of course, he left out a few details. Mainly the ones pertaining to the fact he was in love with Mike. That would have to be a topic for another conversation. Perhaps one with his siblings and mom together. When he was ready. He knew they would wait for him. He was lucky he had them. So lucky.

“I– I don’t know what to do, Mom…I don’t want to lose him.” Will hated how his voice cracked at the second sentence. 

It was the first time he confessed those words out loud. He cemented them as a fact.

He didn’t want to lose Mike.

…But he knew that already. 

“You won’t.” His mom reassured him, her hand stroking his arm. “Mike is…a stubborn kid.”

They both laughed at that statement. It was true. Mike was always stubborn. Ever since Will had known him. He remembered how little Mike would fight the other kids for his and Will’s favourite toys in recess. And how Mike would spend 30 minutes arguing with his mom for Will to sleep over. How Mike stayed by Will’s side throughout the whole mindflayer situation. He was so determined. He couldn’t take no for an answer. And, whilst it always got on Will’s nerves, it was just another thing he loved about him– about Mike.

Will had no shot, did he?

“He’s only giving you space because you asked him to. You just need to reach out to him. If you guys just talk it out, I’m sure you can fix everything.” 

Will nodded, although his brain was still wrapping itself around what his mom had just said. It was clear that she noticed because, once again, her hand laid on his cheek – and her thumb began to gently brush along his peach fuzz. She smiled at him once more. A more reassuring smile this time. It was an inviting smile – one of trust. 

“It’ll all be okay. I promise. You guys are Will and Mike.” Her hands fell on top of his hand. “No matter what, you’re not losing him. Just, talk to him and you’ll see. Okay?”

This time, Will’s nod was a show of understanding. It was also a promise. He was going to talk to Mike – to try and at least fix things. His mom was never wrong about the monsters and magnets– surely she won’t be wrong about this. She has always had a sixth sense when it came to these things. Will just learned to trust her at this point. 

“Okay.”

Joyce smiled as she hugged Will one more time.

“How about we watch a movie before everyone gets back? Your pick.” Will just smiled as they headed into the living room to look through all the VHS tapes Hopper had. Luckily, they spotted Star Wars: A New Hope and popped it in. Joyce made popcorn and they sat together. Will couldn’t help but smile the entire time.

He’s so glad he had his mom. 

*** 

It took Mike a while to get out of bed most days. 

Usually, his routine consisted of him waking up and laying in bed for a certain amount of time, before finally getting out of bed and heading downstairs for breakfast – which was usually cereal. Then, he either sulked on the couch for the majority of the day or, if he was lucky, somehow forced himself to go out and do something productive. Either way, the house was usually quiet. Nancy was out – most likely with Jonathan. His mom and Holly were usually in their respective rooms. And his dad was probably asleep on his La-Z-boy or someplace else. Regardless, he had the house to himself. Something he didn’t appreciate enough when he should’ve. 

For the past few days, the Wheeler house had morphed into the now-base of operations for everyone. The kitchen was claimed by the teens – specifically Steve, Nancy, Jonathan, Robin and that redhead – who Mike has now learned is Vickie. Then, Hopper, Joyce, and Murray claimed the basement – El, too. She used the space to try and search for Max or Vecna – Mike didn’t really know. She was still quiet about these things. Finally, the living room was now the ‘hangout’ area for the Party. 

And, okay yes – of course Mike loved having his friends around. That wasn’t what he minded. It was just– he didn’t have a space anymore. His space. Somewhere to sit and wallow and contemplate everything that was happening. Somewhere he could escape from the outside world. A realm of his own. But, with everyone here – he lost that privilege. He lost the ability to escape. Everything was blurred together. His house – his space, was now part of the chaos. Part of the problem. Part of everything.  

He woke up to yelling from downstairs, usually Dustin or Lucas. He then headed to the kitchen only to be pestered by comments from Steve or Nancy – or even Robin about how shit he looks, which – he is very much aware of. Steve and Robin say it more as a jab. Nancy says it out of concern. He knows she cares, and he appreciates it. But he just ignores them all regardless. He doesn’t want to talk about it. Not right now. Not with them. 

He would then try and ignore their whispers of the Upside Down and Vecna and their anxieties over what to do as he grabbed the cereal box from the top shelf. He would shift his gaze at the cabinet filled with bowls as he felt Jonathan’s gaze on him. He couldn’t tell if it was out of concern for Mike or out of anger for what happened with Will. It was probably the latter. Afterwards, he would head to the fridge for the milk – pretending to ignore the muffled arguments coming from the basement. Nope, he didn’t want to think about any of that. He simply made his cereal, sat at the breakfast table, and ate breakfast. Just like he normally would. 

Sometimes he would watch his friends sit by the couch area. On that day, it was just Dustin and Lucas. Mike was glad to see Lucas okay – or at least better. He still had his daily visits to the hospital, and he stayed by Max’s side for hours – reading to her, talking to her, really anything. Mike would sometimes visit and see Lucas simply playing songs on his stereo as he sat by Max’s side. Sometimes writing to himself. A few times sleeping. But nevertheless by her side. Mike always felt strange witnessing those moments. 

There was something about them that felt intimate. Personal. Even though Max was asleep and Lucas was preoccupied with his own activities, it was still their world. Their own space. Somewhere they could exist in together. Neither of them interacting with one another, yet sharing the space.  

And it– 

It made Mike think of Will. 

Which– no. No. He wasn’t going to think about that.

He was going to ignore that. He didn’t want to think about everything that was happening. He just wanted to eat his cereal and watch two of his best friends argue before begging Mike to be the tiebreaker for whatever debate they were having. He wanted to forget about everything big for a while. 

It wasn’t long before there was a knock at the door.

At that point, Mike had excused himself and headed back upstairs to change out of his pyjamas. He didn’t really think much of it at first. It was pretty common these days for people to come and go from the Wheeler house. He had assumed that it was probably El or maybe even Erica. Both were frequent visitors. Mike tuned out the growing chatter as he pulled his jeans up and grabbed a random shirt from the pile. The voices were too muffled and melded together for Mike’s curiosity to pull his attention towards what was happening.

It wasn’t until he was halfway down the steps that the voices became clearer – more distinguishable. He could pick apart Dustin’s exasperated ramblings from Lucas’s snarky remarks, El’s soft giggling from Will’s stifled laugh, Nancy’s defensive tone from Robin’s– wait, what?

Mike’s eyes began darting around the room, chasing the stream of voices sifting through all his sensory information until– until he saw him. Until he saw Will. Until he found Will across the mess of sounds and people. Will – his best friend, sat awkwardly against the arm of the couch. Will – his cleric, with his arms around a pillow as he fidgeted with its corners. Will the Wise – his favourite person, whose attention was fixated on whoever he was listening to. Will – his Will, was in his living room, being himself – smiling and laughing and listening and talking and doing everything he does the way he does it. 

 And suddenly, Mike was just…better.  

Will had that effect on people. Or, more specifically, on Mike. No matter what, his presence somehow made things better – easier. Like, this weight was off of Mike’s chest. And now, every breath was a little easier to take. And, Mike could continue going. 

 “Mike? You good?” Dustin’s voice peered into Mike’s thoughts. 

Shit .

“Yeah– sorry I spaced out.” He replied – shaking his head and blinking rapidly. He was still on the staircase, awkwardly standing between one step and the other – a totally normal place to space out and not at all suspicious. 

“Okay…” Dustin responds, clearly unconvinced. 

“You sure? You seemed really out of it ” Lucas chimed in – which Mike didn’t even realise he was there-- wow he was out of it.

“I’m fine.” Mike tried to reassure them as he made his way down the stairs. He instinctively headed towards the basement door before realising that fucking Hopper claimed the room and locked everyone else out. So, instead, he headed towards the kitchen – which was now teenager-less. He tried to pretend his gaze wasn’t purposefully evading the living room. 

It didn't take long for him to hear the footsteps of his two friends following behind him. 

“Mike,” Lucas started. “What’s going on with you? You’ve been acting off for weeks now.”

“Yeah! And, as your best friends, we’re a bit concerned.” Dustin added as he stood beside Lucas against the counter. Mike, on the other hand, was rummaging through the cabinets trying to seem busy. He knows his friends were being nice and just showing they cared. He just didn’t want to talk about it. He wanted everything to feel normal. 

“Is this about El?” Dustin asks. 

What?

“What?” Mike finally broke, shifting himself to face his two friends. He leaned against the counter, his hands holding the rim of the countertop on each of his sides. “No– no, it’s not about El.”

They both just stared at each other before looking back at Mike.

“What?” He barked. He hated when they did that. It made him feel small.

 “You were staring at her.”

“No I wasn’t?” His voice squeaked a bit as he got defensive. His eyebrows furrowed and his nose crinkled as he squinted at Lucas and Dustin. He didn’t get it. What were they talking about? He didn’t even see El? The whole time he was looking at– oh.

“You totally were!” Dustin replied, his voice pitching up similar to Mike’s. 

“Mike,” Lucas said, giving him a look. The look. The one that was Lucas’s way of saying ‘I know. I figured it out.’ The one he only uses when he wants you to stop lying–  only Mike wasn’t lying. Which only pissed him off even more. “It’s okay. Break-ups are hard!”

“This isn’t about El though.” He gritted his teeth. He hated how wrong they were and he hated how confident they were about it. He loves his friends. He does. He loves them so much, but god do they know nothing about what was happening. Mike knew that was his fault, but he didn’t want them to know. He didn’t want anyone to know. He just wanted everything to be normal for a bit. Normal in his house. 

 “Oh really? What were you staring at then?” Dustin remarks, playfully. Mike’s blood goes cold.

 “Nothing!” 

“Nothing?” Dustin continues. “Come on Mike, seriously. You had that lovesick puppy dog look in your eyes.”

Mike couldn’t breathe. 

He-- He was… Fuck.

“What?” The word spilled out of his mouth.

“Yeah! You were the definition of yearning. It’s okay to miss your Ex!” Lucas patted Mike’s shoulder. When-- when did they move so close to him?

 “There are other girls out there that would kill to be with you! Don’t sweat it, man.” Dustin continued, giving him a reassuring smile.

 Girls…

Right.

“Yeah…yeah other girls. You guys are right…” Mike slurred, his eyes blinking slowly as he stared at the ground. God– his head was spinning. Were the lights always so bright? 

His grip tightened on the countertop as he tried to keep himself from collapsing. He felt like throwing up. He needed space. He needed to get out. He couldn’t breathe. 

“Sorry, I– I have to go to the bathroom.” He managed to say, his blinking more rapid and his eyebrows furrowing. He bumped his shoulders past theirs, mumbling an “excuse me” before rushing back up the stairs. 

The next thing Mike recalled was the cold water running along his fingertips. He slowly cupped the water in his hand, bringing it towards his face. He didn’t really know why he was doing it. He probably saw someone do it in a film or something. It did help shock him back to reality a little bit so…maybe it was helpful.

‘It’s okay…you’re okay.’ He coached himself through the mirror. Deep breathing and whatnot to help steady his heart. Anything to just help make it better.

He stood in the bathroom for a while, taking deep breaths and mindlessly pacing. He was feeling better, yes – but he didn’t feel like going out yet. He didn’t want to accidentally bump into Dustin or Lucas or anyone and have a repeat of what happened. He needed to be alone for a bit. 

He hid in the bathroom for around 10 minutes before he finally forced himself to walk out. He would’ve stayed for longer, but he knew that at a certain point someone would start banging at the door for him to get out, and he wanted to keep his future interactions to a minimum.

“Hey, Mike.”

Fuck.

“Will.” Mike breathed out, his heartbeat spiking. 

“Everything okay?” Will knitted his eyebrows and titled his head. 

And Mike thought he had said, yeah, I’m fine. He thought he was speaking words and replying, but Will only looked at him even more confused –  which only made Mike panic even more as he stood completely frozen in place. His eyes still on Will.

Will started to shuffle slightly, most likely feeling uncomfortable by the situation. 

“Alright…” Will folded his arms, his gazing falling onto the floor before trailing back to Mike. Mike felt exposed. “Can we– talk about…what happened? It’s okay if you don’t want to. I just- I wanted to apologise about…”

Mike stopped listening at that point. His head began to spin once more. He– he can’t do this. Not right now. 

Everything was too real. Too…here – in the real world. There was no longer that barrier between his inner and outer worlds. They were all out, and they kept clashing with one another. His dad’s words, his friend’s comments, his feelings, his wants, his-- his…his love for Will. His disgusting wants, his sick perverted feelings, his entire being – all the bad, were like scars across his skin. Everyone knew. 

He was going to throw up.

“Mike?” Will pierced through his ears. “What’s wrong?”

He sounded concerned, genuinely concerned. He was worried about Mike, but Mike couldn’t even look him in the eyes. He needed to leave– he needed to get out. He can’t do this right now.

He didn’t know what happened next – or what he said or didn't say but he remembered the trembling of his legs as he rushed down the stairs once more. He remembered the shaking of his hands as he reached for the doorknob. He remembered his eyes stinging and his slightly damp sleeves as the bright sun burned his skin, and he just walked around the neighbourhood.

 He remembered he really hated himself right now. 

***

Will tried apologising four times.

The first attempt was the most discreet out of them all. He didn’t even reach the point of talking to Mike. It happened after one of his volunteering shifts at the highschool. The day he was tasked with folding clothes with Robin and he had just finished up his designated pile. As he was heading out of the school, he spotted Mike next to the bicycle rack. His body was turned away from him, but Will could still tell it was Mike – of course he could. 

It had been a couple days after his mom and his talk. And so, with the words of Joyce Byers herself ringing in his mind, Will rubbed the sweat from his hands, steadied his breathing, and  decided that he would take the opportunity to try and reconcile. He didn’t really plan on what to say or anything – which wasn’t really helping, but he didn’t care. He needed to do this. He wanted to put the effort in, to show Mike how much he cares. To meet him halfway in a sense.

But, as he was about to head towards him, Mike had already rushed into the highschool – eyes glued to the floor and hands shoved into his pocket. He seemed…tired. Not okay. A bit out of it. Will could only catch a glimpse of Mike’s face, but it was more than enough to see that Mike wasn’t doing okay. Which sucked. It sucked seeing Mike not okay. It sucked not being able to do anything about it. It sucked thinking that he might’ve caused him to feel that way. It just sucked. And Will couldn’t do it after that. He felt too weak– too pathetic. He just grabbed Lucas’s borrowed bike and he biked home for the day. 

The second attempt was really just a repeat of the first – only he did manage a “hello.” Granted, it was a very quiet hello that Mike most definitely didn’t hear. But still. He managed to utter words which he wasn’t confident he could do before, so that was a plus.

The third attempt was the worst one of them all. Although, it was the one with the most progress on Will’s half. He planned it out and everything. He decided to tag along with El – who was heading over to the Wheeler’s house to meet Hopper and Joyce. He was going to wait until he spotted Mike and then approach him. He would suggest they talk privately, apologise, and then hopefully restore some ounce of their friendship. 

He didn’t spot Mike when he entered the house, but that was fine. He decided to just wait with El until he found his opportunity to approach Mike. No backing down. He was going to try today. He first saw Mike in the kitchen, but he was talking to Dustin and Lucas so that was a no. He returned back to his conversation with El for a while until he noticed a lack of Mike beside Lucas and Dustin. He quickly excused himself and asked them where Mike was. They said that he had gone up to the bathroom, but it had been a while now. He must’ve been in his bedroom. 

Which, at the time, Will thought was a great opportunity – that way they would be alone, that way it would be just them, together. So, he brushed up enough courage and started heading up the stairs. But, instead of making it up to the room – he spotted Mike just outside the bathroom. Which – okay already not going to plan, but Will could adapt. He had to. He wanted to fix things. He wanted Mike back. It was a selfish want, and he knew it. And he hated himself for it, but he didn’t care.  

So, he approached Mike. He reached out. He tried asking him to talk and apologising. He tried being okay. He tried not to cry or panic or hyperventilate or anything. He tried so so hard. And he ended up feeling so stupid. Because Mike didn’t say anything. He didn’t look at him. He didn’t react. Not even out of anger. He just stood frozen and then ran out of the house. And, Will was left alone trying to process everything and– God did he feel stupid. 

He remembered Lucas’s and Dustin’s voices echoing up the stairs asking what happened? And Is Mike okay? And Will didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how he could walk down the stairs after Mike stormed. Everyone was going to stare and ask questions and he just didn’t want to have to deal with anything. 

But, he had to. So he did.

He took a deep breath, held himself straight, and walked down the stairs. He felt everyone's gaze on him. But it’s fine. He’s fine. He can do this. He just continued until he spotted El, who was still on the couch. The second they made eye contact, El knew something was up – of course she did. She nodded, got up, and said goodbye to everyone before walking towards Will. They headed out together, and El simply wrapped an arm around her brother and gave him the space to talk or not. And Will held himself together as they walked back to the cabin.  

 They spent the rest of the day together, El refusing to leave Will’s side – no matter how much Will said he was fine. He felt bad for taking El away from working on saving the world, but she insisted on staying with him. She kept saying she wanted to. Because he’s her brother. Because she loves him. And, Will loves her too. So, how could he say no? 

Even with the mess that was the third attempt, the fourth attempt hurt the most. 

Because the fourth attempt was Will giving Mike the benefit of the doubt. He wanted to believe that what happened wasn’t because of himself. He wanted to believe that maybe Mike was just in a bad mood or ran out for unrelated reasons or something that didn’t revolve around Will. He wanted to believe it was just…a random sequence of events – mutually exclusive to Will. 

Looking back, Will was just being stupid.

He tried again two days after the third attempt. Because Will was an idiot, and he didn’t want to admit that he had fully lost Mike – he tried again at Mike’s house. And again, he tagged along with El. She gave him a reassuring smile before heading down to the basement, leaving Will alone by the door. Almost immediately afterwards, Will spotted Mike heading out of the dining room. So, he tried approaching him. And, the second they made eye contact, Mike averted his eyes, and turned away.

…Will always knew rejection hurt. He already experienced multiple forms of rejection from Mike Wheeler himself. They always felt so…heavy. It pressed against his chest until he choked on sobs. It dragged his legs and arms down until his bones broke. It sludged down his throat until he was too nauseous to eat. It almost felt like a slow burn. A force that took its time.

At some point, he got used to it. Heck, he almost grew resistant. Enough to hold himself together in front of everyone – in front of Mike. Enough to hold onto Mike without breaking himself down entirely. 

But, this felt new. This felt worse. Mike didn’t even look at Will.

He just– left him alone.

Something about this felt different though. This wasn’t Mike. This wasn’t Will’s Mike. This wasn't the Mike he knew better than himself. They were too different now. They were too separate. The distance stretched and stretched and stretched until it snapped their bond in half. And, Will could try as much as he wants to reach out to Mike – to hold the pieces of them together, but that would be too cruel. For him to pretend that Mike still wanted to be best friends. For him to think he could fix everything again. For him to think they could be more than– 

…

He needed to stop.

This shouldn’t have been a big deal to begin with. There were bigger issues at hand. The world was ending and he was sitting here sulking. He needed to focus his attention on helping stop Vecna – no matter how small his role was. He just– he couldn’t sit around doing nothing. Not when he had first hand experience. Not when he couldn’t help.

Hopper called a meeting at the cabin the next day. 

It was the first time Hopper – or any of the adults had finally decided to talk about everything with everyone around. So, it was a pretty big deal. It was the first time they could have an open discussion about what everyone knew and possibly create a plan on how they could even try and stop Vecna. 

Hopper and his mom were huddled up by the kitchen counter, sharing whispers to one another as they waited for everyone to arrive. Will could tell they were tense. They were trying to hide it, but Will could tell. He hated how much stress they were shouldering. How much they tried to hide from them. He knew they were just protecting them. It was out of love. But still, he hated it. He wished he could help. He didn’t like seeing his mom like this. 

It took about twenty minutes for everyone to arrive. Dustin, Steve and Robin arrived first – Steve most likely being the designated driver for the other two. Mike and Nancy arrived next. Mike not looking at Will once. It was fine. Will was fine. He was going to let Mike win. He was going to move on. Lucas and Erica arrived last. And then, the meeting started.

Okay, the meeting was a bit of a mess.

Thirty minutes in and everyone was just fighting and bickering. Hopper had propsed a plan for him and El to enter the Upside Down in order to fight against Vecna. Will wasn’t fully aware about the details, but it was some sort of reconnaissance mission. A way to get details and possibly learn more about the situation. El also wanted to attempt to search for Max in the Upside Down, since they hadn’t had much luck here. 

Immediately, there was fighting. Everyone was raising their own opinions, worries, disagreements. Dustin was mainly poking holes in their plan. Nancy agreed with him. So did Steve. Lucas was more torn on the subject. Mike was silent. Not that– Will cared or anything. It was just something he observed.

“No– absolutely not!”  “It’s too dangerous.”

“Vecna is still in hiding!” Dustin exclaimed, rubbing his face with his hands. “We have no idea where he is! It’s too risky.” 

“He’s still recovering. He’s weak right now--” Hopper started.

“You don’t know that.” Dustin corrected him.

“-- This could be our only chance.” Hopper breathed out. His demeanour changed. He was more serious, way more tense. A sense of urgency weighing on his words. “We have to try.”

“We know.” Nancy spoke up. “But, we can’t risk it. Not when we don’t know where he is.” 

“What if I went?” Will finally spoke up. Everyone went silent, their eyes turned on Will. Most likely out of shock or disbelief or confusion. They probably didn’t expect Will to speak up or volunteer himself. Which, in all honesty, Will didn’t expect himself to say anything either. But, he got to thinking…and it made sense for him to join them.

“What?” Mike spat out. 

Will’s eyes darted towards him for a second, clenching his jaw. He should be happy that Mike was finally acknowledging his existence. But he was just mad. Because Mike doesn’t get to do that. He doesn’t get to pick and choose when or where to be Will’s friend. He doesn’t get to take this opportunity to play knight in shining armour. He doesn’t get to– to do this to Will. To pretend he cared when he made it clear he doesn’t.

So, Will just ignored him, his eyes turning to Hopper as he continued.

“I can still sense Vecna’s presence. I can like–– warn you guys whenever I can feel that he’s close.” He watched as Hopper’s face squished – he was unconvinced. “I know how to use a gun. I can protect myself.”

“Will, honey–” Joyce began to protest. 

“I’ll be fine, Mom. I..I want to help.” He reassured her. He didn’t like worrying his mom– not after all she had gone through. Not after how much she fought for him. “Plus…this is our best bet.”

He looked at her, hoping his words were enough reassurement. Her eyes were still on him as she continued to contemplate. She was worried. Will knew she would be. She’s his mom – of course, she would be hesitant to send her child off to the same place that he was lost in. But.. Will needed to do this. 

 Hopper was also silent. Everyone was silent. They were all thinking. Each of their heads hung low. Each except Will’s whose eyes remained on Hopper. He wanted him to know he was serious. I can help you. Let me help. Please, please, Let me help. 

“...I’ll come with,” Nancy spoke up, her arms crossed as she looked up to Will and Hopper. “I can help protect them. I’ve been in the Upside Down before. I know what to expect.”

“What?!” Mike yelled, again.

“Will’s right. This is our best bet,” Nancy continued, her hands now interlocked with Jonathans. She turned to Will, giving him a nod of reassurance. He nodded back, a small smile on his face. Thank you.  

They both turned to Hopper, waiting for the final verdict. He turned towards Joyce – either looking for reassurance or discouragement or something. Will couldn’t tell. They were in their own world. He didn’t know what was happening or what was being said in the silence. But he watched as she held Hopper’s hand, squeezing it gently, as she softly smiled at him and nodded. 

“We leave in an hour,” Hopper turned back to the group. “Pack whatever you need.”

 “What?! You can’t be serious?” Mike barked. Will felt weird. “He can’t go! It’s too dangerous!” 

“That’s not your decision, kid.” 

“Oh, so every other part of your plan was worth debating except for when you decided to put Will’s life at risk?” He was standing up now. Will froze. 

“It was his choice.” Hopper stepped towards Mike. “He wants to do this.” 

“And you’re just okay with it?” 

“Look, I get you’re worried.” Hopper held his hands out as he tried to calm Mike down. “It’s okay to worry about your friend. But he’s going to be okay. I’ll make sure of it.”

Hah, friend. Not the word Will would choose to define them, but sure. Friend.

Mike didn’t like Hopper's answer. Will could tell. He hated that he could tell, but he could tell. Even if Mike tried to hide it, he could tell. It felt so obvious to Will. So clear– so visible, so loud. He couldn’t ignore Mike’s presence. It invaded his senses at any given opportunity. And Will hated how addicting it was. To see Mike, to hear Mike, to notice MIke. He hated how much he couldn’t help himself. Because even if he wasn’t Will’s Mike, he was still Mike. And Will knew that. And he hated it. 

“Seriously, Will? You’re seriously going?” Mike turned to Will. He was angry. The way his nose crinkled. The way his eyebrow wrinkled his forehead. His gritted teeth. His puffed up chest. He was visibly angry.

Which only made Will even more mad. Because who was Mike to care now. To act like a concerned friend now. To get on his stupid high horse and pretend that he’s actually worried about Will and wants him to be okay. It’s not fair. He can’t run out on Will and ignore him and avoid any of Will’s attempts to reconcile and fix things – and then just…just– pretend it didn’t happen. Pretend like he didn’t hurt Will. Pretend like everything was okay. It wasn’t. 

Will just stood up. He wasn’t in the mood for this. He can’t do this right now. He needed to prepare his bag. 

“Will?” Mike asked again.

“I’m going to go pack.” He doesn’t even look at Mike. He can’t do this right now. 

***

Mike couldn’t breathe. 

Because, one second he was listening to Hopper talk about fuck all. And the next he was yelling and chasing after Will. And he’s panicking and pleading and praying that Will doesn’t leave him. He can’t– He can’t let him go back there. Not after everything. Not after all that happened the last time. Not when he-- he almost lost him before. He couldn't go through that again. He could’t lose him.

“Will– please,” Mike begged, chasing Will out of the cabin’s living room. He wasn’t answering him. He didn’t even acknowledge Mike. 

They were both in Will’s bedroom now. Will was still ignoring Mike, and Mike was trying his best not to fall to the ground and break. Without a second thought, he closed the door. He couldn’t do this in front of everyone. He didn’t want them to hear or know anything. They wouldn’t get it. 

“What are you doing?” Will furrowed his eyebrows the second he noticed the closed door. 

“You can’t go back there.”

“I’m going, Mike. You can’t stop me.” Mike felt like throwing up. 

“It’s too risky!”

“I don’t care. I’m going.” Will grabbed his duffel bag off the floor as he scanned the room for anything he needed. He spotted the gun Hopper gave to him when they arrived back in Hawkins and started to fill his bag with his bullet cartridges. God, he wasn’t even looking at Mike. He kept his back towards him and kept packing as if all of this was fine – as if he wasn’t leaving Mike.

“Why are you being so selfish right now?”

“I’m being– no” Will cut himself off, quickly calming himself down and continuing to pack. “I’m not doing this with you right now.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“I’m not doing this with you Mike.” He repeated. And it irked Mike just how nonchalant Will was about it. About him going back there. Back to the Upside Down. How calm he was. How little he seemed to care to fight or even acknowledge Mike. How okay he was with it. How was he so okay with it? 

“Doing what?” Mike was raising his voice now. 

“Talking to you.” Will began, shoving something in the bag. “Acting like– everything’s okay. Like– you didn’t run away from me or avoid me or whatever. I’m not–”

He stopped himself, taking another deep breath. 

“I wasn’t avoiding you.” Mike corrected him. Will just scoffed. “I wasn’t.”

Will didn’t say anything at first. He continued to pack for a second. But, then he paused. His hands gripping the sides of the duffle bag. Another deep breath, and he was facing Mike.

“I’m tired of fighting with you, Mike.” His voice cracked. Mike’s heart dropped. “I’m sorry I lied, okay? I’m sorry we fought. I’m sorry I’m a terrible friend. I’m– I’m…I’m sorry I hurt you.”

“I--”

“But I can’t keep doing this.” 

This. Them. 

He was talking about them.

Mike wanted to throw up, because everything was too much right now. And Mike didn’t know what to do. And Mike was panicking because fuck he didn’t know what to do, and he has too much to lose right now to not know what to do. “Please, Will,” Mike whispered, hoping it masked how shaky his voice was. It didn’t. 

Will just stood there. His head bowed to the ground, and his hands fidgeted with the seams of his jeans. He was pushing Mike away. And all Mike could think to do was silently beg in his brain. To plead. To hope that Will could somehow hear him– somehow listen and stay here. To stay with Mike. Please don’t leave me.

But Will didn’t do that. He just stood in silence, squeezing his eyes shut and pacing his breathing. He just stood there. At a distance that grew harsher to cross – more unforgiving, more impossible. And Mike was falling apart at the seams. Every part of him wanted to do nothing more than breakdown into nothing. To grovel. To beg Will to stay. To hold him close. To feel his heartbeat against him. To know he’s here and alive. 

He just…he couldn’t go through that again.

“I’m– gonna go find El.” Will began to reach for the door. Mike wanted to scream. 

Suddenly, his body had barricaded the door and his hands had gripped the key as they twisted it shut. Until– Click.

“Mike, what are you doing?” Will asked, already reaching to unlock the door. 

Mike wasn’t thinking at that point. It was just instinct. His fight or flight screaming to fight for this. For Will. Because…because he doesn’t know what’s going to happen. He doesn’t know if Will is going to bike away the way he did that night and never come back. He doesn’t know if he’s going to be lucky so he needs to fight for this now. 

He grabbed onto Will's wrist, lifting it up, and looking at Will in the eyes. Mike tried not to buckle at the sight of Will’s glossy eyes or quivering lips. He’s…he’s going to fix this. 

“What are you doing?” Will repeated, blinking away any tears that began to form and biting down on his lips. Fuck, did Mike’s heart ache at every second Will tried to pull away from him, or hide from him, or pretend to be okay to him. All he could think about is how he did this. How he pushed first– pushed harder. How he kept pushing and pushing until Will finally pulled away himself, and Mike started to lose him. 

“Let me go.”

“No…No,” He affirmed. “You’re not leaving me. Not like this. Because…if something happens–”

“Mike, don’t talk like that.”

“Will,” He breathed out, looking at his eyes again– please. His brows pulled together as he waited for…something. For Will to protest, for him to yank his arm and shove past him, for more anger– more chaos. But that didn’t happen. No, instead, Will just exhaled a sigh. His arm relaxing under Mike’s grasp as he slowly dropped it to his side, taking a step back from the door and waiting for Mike to continue.

“If…something happens,” The words slur against his teeth. “If– if you get hurt, or…worse. I just– I can’t let you go when we’re like this. When we’re not okay.”

“Mike–”

“I need us to be okay.” He cuts Will off. He knows Will. He knows he wants to comfort Mike right now. To put his own feelings to the side and help him because that's what he does– because that’s who he is.But, right now, Mike can’t let him do that. Because Will deserves better than that. 

He needed to sit down for the next part. He slowly paced his way towards the bed, taking a seat at its end as he rubbed his hands against his face, his knees, his eyes– just, everywhere. There was such a sense of agitation across his skin and he didn’t know how else to soothe himself. All his neurons were going into overdrive because wow he’s really doing this, huh?

“You remember…how I got mad about the painting?” He looked up from the ground at Will – who nodded, taking a seat next to Mike as he continued. “It’s…It’s not because you lied– well it is, but– fuck okay…”

He took a deep breath. Here it goes. The point of no return. 

“I– I wasn’t mad just because you lied.” He turned to Will again. He doesn’t know why really. Part of him was scared he wasn’t there. Wasn’t listening. But he was. And he was giving Mike all of his attention. It’s okay, I’m here. 

“I was mad because…I– Jesus this is going to sound selfish and fucked up, but I…I wanted the painting to be from you.” He watched as Will held his breath. “I wanted those words to come from you, and not her…because --”

Holy shit here goes nothing.

“-- Because, I wanted you to see me like that. I wanted you to like me like that because…that’s how I feel about you.” He pauses, feeling a sob bubble up his throat. He wasn’t going to cry. Nope. Not right now. He’s not going to be weak about this. He needed to get this all out.

“I think– no, I know that…that I’m in love with you, Will.” 

And…he tried. He tried really hard to vocalise the phrase louder, clearer. Enough for Will to know how certain he was– how much he meant it– how much he wanted him to know it. He tried so hard only for it to escape his lips in the security of a whisper. Raspy, broken, and small and yet it held the weight of Mike’s world in its grasp. Its mere existence was a threat– a weapon that could destroy everything. 

God, he felt so pathetic right now. 

His eyes began to sting as he wiped the thumb and index pressed against them as he rubbed away any sign of tears– he wasn’t crying. He looked at Will who was in absolute shock– his face frozen with his eyes and mouth opened wide. And suddenly the words that bounced across the walls were drowned by silence. Nothing except for Mike’s exasperated breathes as he tried to calm himself down and not regret possibly fucking up the best thing in his life. 

“I’m– I’m sorry,” He croaked. “Fuck– Will, I’m– I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have thrown this on you, right now with everything. I’m s--”

“Mike.” Will blinked, looking at Mike, and Mike fell silent. Because when Will Byers started talking, you listened. At every opportunity, you listen to him, and you look at him, and you adore him because he’s Will and nothing can compare to him. Nothing. 

“Yeah?” He whispered, trying to fight a smile. He couldn’t help himself. Even when he’s absolutely on the verge of shitting himself…he couldn’t help but smile at Will – to think the world of him. Like he said, it’s only natural – some law by Einstein or whoever. 

“You’re in love with me?” Will whispered back, in disbelief. 

“Yeah,” Mike let out a chuckle, intertwining his hands above his lap as he looked down at the floor. “I am.”

“Really?”

“Really.” 

Mike’s voice floated in the silence as he waited again. For the other shoe to drop. For Will to reject him or yell– No, not yell. Will wouldn’t yell. He would probably pretend he wasn’t disgusted by Mike because he always puts others first, and he would struggle to reject him and distance himself because he doesn’t like hurting people, and Mike would feel sick to his stomach because he just confessed to thinking about Will in that way, and God what was he thinking he just–

“I love you too.” 

What.

“What?” Mike shifted his body to face Will. “Really?”

He nodded excitedly, biting down on his bottom lip as he held back a grin. Which didn't work. His smile was wider than ever. With one exhale, the weight that crushed his heart evaporated into nothing but particles in the air. And just– the power Will had to just…make things better. 

“You’re not just– you’re not just saying that right?”

“I made you the painting, didn’t I?”

“Right– Right.” Mike nodded, turning away for a second before gazing back at Will. God, Will was here– next to him, near him. He didn’t realise how much he missed the close proximity they used to share – the sense that the space between them was theirs. 

“So you’re being serious?”

“Oh my god, Mike. Yes! I’m in love with you, okay?” He laughed, giving him a light shove as they shared a smile. Will loves him, huh? He…really does. Wow. Mike never thought that was a possibility and yet here they were. Together. In love. Together.

“Really?” He asked – mainly as a joke, partially out of disbelief. It felt too good to be real. He kept waiting for something to happen– for it to be a joke or something. But it wasn’t. It was real. Holy Shit.

“You’re so unbelievable.” Will rolled his eyes, shoving Mike a little harsher than before, but nothing big. But Mike, the overdramatic Dungeon Master he is, grabbed onto his shoved shoulder and painfully winced as he fell back onto the bed in complete and total agony. 

“Ahhhh you’ve wounded me,” He exaggerated, peeking a look at Will– who was now rolling his eyes at him. He still had the biggest smile in the world so Mike considered it a win. He put that smile on Will’s face. 

“You’re such an idiot.” Will giggled, turning to face Mike on the bed. Seeing that Mike was very comfortable laying on the bed, he begins to lay down next to him – propping himself up his elbows as he looked down as Mike. 

“Rude.” Mike pouted, as he adjusted himself so he could be closer to Will. He didn’t even need to make an excuse why. He just liked being near Will. The closer he is to a star the more wonder there was to see. 

“Hey,” Will said, as he watched Mike get closer to him until Mike’s head was below Will’s – his legs at an odd angle, but that didn’t matter. 

“Hi.” Mike replied, taking advantage of their proximity to soak up every inch of Will’s face. There was no shame in it either. “Say it again?”

“Hmm?” Will hummed. “Say what?”

“That you love me?”

“You still don’t believe me?”

“I believe you….I just– I wanna hear it again…” His eyes trailed down Will’s face before looking back up at him. Will just smiled, his eyebrows drew together, as he looked down at Mike. 

It was such a small expression. It shouldn’t mean that much. It shouldn’t be a big deal to Mike. And yet, it was because it was Will. Will was looking at Mike, like that– like Mike was worth something more than he was.

“...Say it again? Please?” He felt so small but not in a bad way. It was more a sense of safety. Like..he was allowed to be small– allowed to break himself down a bit. 

He held his breath as Will leaned down a bit more. Nothing too close. There was still plenty of  space between them. But, it was definitely closer than before. Closer than they’ve been in a while.

“I love you.” He said quietly. A secret that was only to be shared between the two of them. Words that shouldn’t be heard by anyone else. It was just theirs. 

“Again.” Mike pouted.

“You’re so demanding.”

“I just love hearing it.”

“You’re such a dork.”  Will laughed, rolling his eyes as he looked away from Mike. He started to sit up a bit before Mike grabbed his wrist gently.

“Wait–” He breathed as Will turned to face Mike again. He was a bit hesitant now, evading Will’s gaze as he grew shy over how he’s acting. It was silly. He was being silly. He was. But he couldn’t help himself. Every part of him had craved this for so long. He didn’t want to mess anything up.

He looked back up to Wil, who looked back at him. And Mike’s lips curled up, mirroring the small grin on Will’s face. His heart steadied as he continued to pull Will closer to him. Slowly, he released his grasp, trailing his finger along Will's skin up to his hand before he began to trace the lines along the palm of Will’s hand. They both weren’t breathing at this point.

“Can I…hold your hand?” Mike whispered.

Will nodded, biting down his smile. “You don’t have to ask.”

Mike nodded once back, before looking down at Will’s hand again. Carefully, he intertwined their hands together and pulled them closer up to his face – Will trailing behind his hand. He breathed against the back of Will’s hand before pressing a soft kiss on top of it. He pulled their hands away, but only by a bit before looking up at Will.

“Say it again, please?” 

Will’s breath hitched. His eyes froze onto their intertwined hands that were still grazing against Mike’s lips. His ears and cheeks reddened and Mike couldn’t help but feel a little cocky about the fact that he was the one who made the Will Byers blush. He was the one who got to make him blush and hold his hand and hear the words I love you and be Will’s. 

“Hmm.” Will hummed, finally responding. He began to release his hand from Mike’s, leaving Mike a bit sad – which he gets to be clingy with this. He gets to feel this way now. If he wants to feel sad because he’s not holding Will Byers’s hand, he gets to feel sad because he’s not holding Will Byers’s hand.

Will took his, now free, hand and slowly drew it closer to Mike’s face – before hesitating for a second. His hand had barely brushed over the peachy fuzz on Mike’s cheek as he looked back to Mike– waiting for the okay.

“You don’t have to ask,” He repeated Will’s words, smiling up at him.

Will grinned back before slowly cupping Mike’s face in his hand and leaning down. Mike’s breath catched as Will delicately placed a kiss on Mike’s forehead. It sort of tickled, but Mike didn’t care. He didn’t even notice. He was too fixated on Will right now – how close he was, how soft and warm his lips felt, how much he wanted to kiss him. And, how okay he was with thinking that way.

“I love you,” Will whispered against his skin. 

He slowly pulled away and moved towards Mike’s left cheek – another kiss.

“I love you.” 

He pulled away, moving towards Mike’s right cheek – another kiss.

“I love you.”

…Mike was down bad.

“Enough?” Will asked – trying to resist an already forming smirk. Mike, on the other hand, was trying to cool his face down a bit. 

“You missed a spot.” Will furrowed his eyebrows before realising what Mike meant – his eye quickly darting down to his lips before looking away.

“I don’t think I did.” He laughed.

“No, no you definitely did.”

“Hmmm,” Will hummed, looking at Mike for a second again, before pulling away slightly– his hand still cupping Mike’s face. “I don’t think so.”

“Will.”

“Mike.”

“Will,” Mike whined, grabbing Will’s arm – Wow his arms were defined – and pulling him closer to him. They were just centimetres apart at this point. Their noses brushed as Mike grew quiet.

“Yes?” Will whispered, still smiling. 

Subconsciously, Mike bit down on his lip slightly, and his eyes slowly shifted down to Will’s lips before looking back up to his eyes. Will’s smile began to fade and his breathing hitched as they just stared at one another. 

“Kiss me,” Mike breathed. He watched as Will’s gulp trickled down his throat before looking back at his lips and then back up to him. 

“You really are demanding,” Will replied, trying to keep it cool. His voice cracks giving himself away. Slowly, though, he begins to lean in closer – each breath brushing against Mike's lips.

“Shut up,” Mike mumbled, his nose wrinkling slightly as he attempted to hide his smile. Will continued to lean closer – their foreheads brushing against one another, their nose bumping each other slightly, and their lips a pulse away from touching.  

“Make me.” Will whispered against Mike’s lips. 

And so, Mike placed a hand on Will’s cheek, and drew him in until their lips met. His fingers curled under Will’s jaw as he continued to pull him in more and more. It wasn’t the most amazing kiss in a technical sense. They were both awkward. Their noses kept bumping into one another as they tried to fit their lips together. But Mike didn’t care. None of that mattered. Because he was fucking kissing Will Byers. None of it mattered except Mike’s lips being pressed against Will’s.  And all Mike could focus on was Will’s lips pushed against his as Mike trailed after him. 

The kiss was slow. It wasn’t as fast paced as Mike’s kisses with El were. Which – he felt bad for comparing the two. He shouldn’t be. He shouldn’t be comparing Will to his El, who happens to be Will’s sister – what the fuck is he doing. It wasn’t that he was comparing the two. He was just curious about the difference between kissing girls and guys. He wondered if that was part of it. Every movement of their lips against one another felt savoured. Nothing was miniscule. Every inch and crevice – all of it meant something.

Will’s lips were also softer than he thought they would be. They felt nice against his– warm, was that weird to think?Mike didn’t really think about El’s lips that much when th– oh my god he needed to stop doing that. It was just that….the kiss felt nice. He wasn’t used to this. To want to pull and push against someone’s lip. To feel this desire for more– to pull more, to grab his hair more, to run his hands along his arms more. To kiss him more, to kiss him deeper,  harsher, softer, longer, shorter– all of it. He wanted to explore everything and all of Will Byers.   

And it didn’t matter how odd it was at first. How clunky they were at the start. How long it took for them to finally melt into one another. It didn’t matter. Every bit of the moment was being engrained in Mike’s mind. Every place that Will’s hand grazes, every strand of hair that he threaded fingers through, every gasp Will took for air – all of it. He didn’t want to forget a single moment, because here he was, and he was alive. And he was with Will and he was alive. And he was kissing Will and he was living.

And, then there was a knock.

“Will?” Nancy’s muffled voice travelled through the door – immediately causing the two boys to separate. Will, who was now rolled on his back on the bed yelled back a “Yes!” as he propped himself up – fixing his dishevelled hair.

“Hopper wanted me to remind you that we’re leaving in 10 minutes.” They were both sitting up right now.

Right. Will was leaving… Mike forgot about that for a second. Fuck.

“Right– yeah, I’ll be out in a bit!” Will replied, rubbing his hands against his thighs as he avoided eye contact with Mike. They both sat there in silence, until Will got up to his bag, clearing his throat and mumbling “I have to pack” as he walked back towards his duffel bag. And everything was awkward again.

And Mike hated it. He hated how different everything was. How distant they were again. How uncomfortable they were in their own space. He hated it. He wanted to go back. He was just kissing Will Byers. How is he not smiling the biggest grin right now? 

Screw it, Mike thought – walking up towards Will. Will’s back was turned to Mike so he hadn’t noticed Mike, yet. The closer Mike got, the more he started to notice the shake of Will’s hands as he tried to continue to pack equipment. He watched as Will curled his fingers into a fist and took deep breaths. He was scared. And Mike hated seeing him that way. 

So, without overthinking it, Mike approached Will again, before carefully snaking his arms around Will’s lower torso and laying his chin on top of Will’s shoulder.

Will tensed up at first – his shoulders raising light, before he rested his hand on top of Mike’s. He gently rubbed his thumbs along the ridges and grooves of Mike’s hand as he slowly steadied his breathing. His eyes were still on the table where his bag laid, but he was better now. Mike then pressed his lips on Will’s shoulder and whispered against the cotton of his shirt.

“I don’t want you to go.”

“I know…” Will sighed.

“I don’t want to lose you again.”

Will didn’t say anything. Instead, he turned around to face Mike – whose hands were now resting on Will’s lower back. He curled his arms around Mike’s neck as Mike laid his forehead on Will’s shoulder, and they just hugged. There wasn’t much else they could do at that moment. Mike’s grip on around the wrinkles in Will’s shirt, and Will pulled Mike closer. And they held each other for as long as they needed to.

Mike pulled away first but only slightly – enough for Mike to look into Will’s eyes and nothing more. They were still entangled in each other's embrace. 

“Hi.” Will smiled, clearly trying to relieve the tension of the situation. 

“Hey.” Mike let out a small chuckle and smiled back – his eyes falling to the ground. Although, it wasn’t as believable as Will. And Will could tell, because his smile dropped as he slouched down slightly to look up and try to catch Mike’s gaze. He drew his hands towards Mike’s face to cup them – directing Mike to look at him. 

“Mike--”

“Promise me?” Mike began. “That you’ll stay safe? And that you’ll come back?

He watched as Will blinked away the glossiness in his eyes as he tried to stifle a small sob.

“I’ll do my best.”

“Promise me.”

“Mike.”

“Will, please,” He pleaded. “Promise me.”

“I don’t know what’s going to happen.” Will began, his eyes looking around the room as he spoke. “I don’t want to lie to you.”

“This wouldn’t be a lie!” Mike quietly exclaimed. He lifted his hands off of Will’s back and trailed them up to Will’s hands that were still cupped around Mike’s face. Gently, he pulled them down and intertwined them together as he drew them in between him and Will. He tugged Will slightly closer.

“Because you’re going to come back to me, okay?” His voice cracked– he didn’t care though. 

“You’ll come back, and– and I’ll take you out on a date.” He smiled weakly. “We can go watch a movie in the cinema. And we can hold hands in the dark. And I’ll take you to dinner. I’ll even pay for it and everything like I’m supposed to do.”

Will chuckled, his eyes glossier than before. Mike’s eyes stinged a bit. 

“And…we can come back to my house and just – talk about whatever you want to talk about on the floor of the basement.” Tugging Will slightly by their hands, Mike leaned forward until their foreheads laid against one anothers. 

“And I’ll shower you with kisses,” He whispered. “And…I’ll get to tell you how much I love you because – God, I love you so fucking much, Will. More than I thought was even possible.” 

He paused.

“So, please. Promise me?”

And Will, with his tear stained cheeks, couldn’t help but plant a quick peck on Mike’s lips before whispering back.

“Okay, I promise.”