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Will was having fun!
Of course, he was having fun. It was his best friend’s bachelor party. How could he possibly not be enjoying it? He was happy for Mike. Falling in love and getting married, preparing to start the rest of his life with the woman of his dreams.
He would be an awfully shitty friend if he admitted he was miserable.
If he let himself wallow in his self-pity and bitterness as he stares at Mike from across the club taking a long pull from the beer he had reluctantly accepted from Dustin when they first arrived. The day hadn’t started too badly. The four of them met in the early afternoon for a short DnD reunion game.
They were all out of practice and rusty, Will himself having not played since high school, but soon memories had rushed back to them as they laughed and reminisced as a quartet reliving the glory days of innocent youth.
Things took a turn for the worse when the other groomsmen arrive at Mikes ready to commence with the evening activities. A couple of them were friends of Mikes from college, and one was a colleague from work. Will had met none of them before. Not surprising considering, once he escaped to college, he so rarely came back to visit.
It’s why he shouldn’t be so hurt that Mike didn’t ask him to be his best man. Will doesn’t live close by; they aren’t as close anymore. It makes sense he asked Lucas. Will is not jealous. He’s happy Mike even asked him to be in the wedding party, to begin with. He’s honored.
Besides, if this is the kind of thing Mike wanted for his party, Will looked around the club with disdain, there is no way Will would have thought to plan it. He’s never been to a strip club before, especially not a straight one, and he can’t say he’ll ever want to go again.
He really wanted to switch out the beer that tastes like piss for something more his speed but is unsure how well that would go over in a small town like this. With several men, he doesn’t know and three men he grew up with but are practically strangers at this point.
He orders a round of shots for the group, thinking that while the taste is awful at least it will get him drunker than the watery beer, and makes his way back to the group of men getting increasingly rowdier as the night goes on.
Will drains his with the others and schools his expression as one of the dancers approaches their merry little group. She is quickly welcomed to perform as Will pretends this isn’t one of the most excruciating moments of his life.
He’s pretty sure his friends know he’s gay. Not that Will has ever said it to them but they’re all nearly thirty and Will has never mentioned a girlfriend. So, they have to know. He’s not going to bring attention to it here, however. Not in a backward ass town like this with drunk and uninhibited straight men.
It becomes slightly harder to retain his composure when the dancer focuses on him for a short section of the song. Gyrating her hips against his lap as Will desperately withheld his grimace and white-knuckled his way through it, carefully avoiding any of his friend’s eyes. Letting out a deep sigh of relief when she moved on to Dustin beside him, who more than welcomed her attentions.
Will manages to excuse himself, volunteering once more to collect another round of drinks when the dancer attempts to make her way back to him. Practically leaping over the back of the booth the group had commandeered and out of her grip.
He stalls as long as he can ordering the drinks, downing several shots himself at the bar, as he spies the group he left behind. Silently pleading for the dancer to leave before he makes his way back over. It appears his hopes are for naught as he sees one of Mike’s college friends pay for a second dance once she finishes her routine.
Perhaps he should stay here for a while. Will had been quiet all evening so it’s not like they would notice, particularly with the scantily dressed woman distracting them with her provocative dancing. Wills safer at the bar. Less likely to be touched by someone he has no interest in touching him.
It doesn’t hurt that the bartender is pretty cute. Dark ebony skin, full lips, and tantalizing biceps show through the thin shirt that is plastered to him. Will would much rather stare at him than muster the energy to pretend to care about the naked women around them.
He would have been safer at the bar if the hot bartender hadn’t then used that moment to engage Will in conversation instantly pulling him from his blatant ogling.
He scolds himself for his stupidity at being so blatant. He is not home. He can’t stare at men like that, not here. It’s not safe.
“You need a hand getting those back to your group?” The man motions to the tray of shots Will had ordered laying innocently on the sticky bar.
“No,” Will shook his head, still reluctant to rejoin the group, “Need a breather.” He says as an excuse.
The bartender looks over at his friends and back to Will, “bachelor party huh?” he queries, making small talk. Will assumes that’s the most common reason a large group of men comes to a place like this.
“Yeah, my best friend” Will confirms, trailing his finger over the condensation falling down the shot glass, “He’s getting married.”
“How long you been friends?” The bartender is polishing a piece of glassware as the bar remains empty beside the two of them.
“Since Kindergarten.”
The bartender whistles quietly between his teeth, “Long time.”
“Yeah,” Will sighs internally, a long time indeed.
“You sure you shouldn’t get back?” He asks, tilting his head “You’re missing out on the prime attraction in a place like this.” He gestures around the club.
“Pretty sure,” Will takes another shot, barely feeling the burn after having so many his throat is numb, “Not my thing.” He mutters before he can stop himself, panicked eyes immediately snapping to the other man.
“Oh,” he breathes out, a smile curling at the corner of his lips as he leans forward on the bar in interest, “What is your kind of thing, then?” He purrs blatantly checking Will out.
Well, shit.
Will wasn’t exactly anticipating the chance of getting laid while here. Particularly not in what he considers a beacon of heterosexuality. It’s dangerous. It’s stupid. But Will eagerly mirrors the bartender’s body language practically broadcasting his interest.
Sue him!
His best friend is getting married, something he will never be allowed to do, and Will is only here because he got a pity invite. He’s back in a town that made his childhood a living, breathing, hell. Surrounded by a model of normalcy he has never conformed to. On top of having endured a two-month-long dry patch.
“You know,” Will smirks, “It just so happens that bartenders are my thing.”
“Is that so” The bartender smiles wolfishly at Will’s answer, reaching his hand forward to shake, “I’m Sam” he introduces himself.
“Will” Will grasps his hand in his own, squeezing firmly as his stomach swoops at the strong shake Sam the bartender gives him, “Good grip, you’ve got there.” He compliments.
“It’ll feel even better wrapped around something else,” Sam whispers seductively, making Will shiver at the promise.
“Oh, yeah.” Will exhales leaning further forward to the tall man, examining the flecks of gold surrounding his irises, reflecting off the flashing lights in the club, “That a promise?” Will licks his lips.
Sam tracks his tongue as it swipes across his bottom lip, face darkening with want, “I get off at 11.”
“Too bad, I want to get off now,” Will says mischievously.
“Fuck” Sam whines, grip tightening against the wood of the bar separating them, “Maybe I could-“ He looks around widely for a colleague to cover his area, as Will continues to grin smugly. It’s always nice to be wanted.
“Will?” A voice Will is usually delighted to hear but, at this moment, perhaps the worst possible choice.
“Mike,” Will wipes the flirtatious expression off his face schooling it into a facsimile of neutrality as he turns to the other man, who is looking between Will and Sam uncomfortably.
“I thought you were getting drinks?” Mike asks eventually breaking the awkward tension that settled over them the moment Mike appeared.
“I am.” Will concurs, searching blindly for an excuse as to why it’s taking him so long despite the bar being absent of any other customers.
“Sorry,” Sam interrupts, “That’s my fault. I was just grabbing a bottle of Whiskey for you gentlemen. On the house of course. To celebrate the big day.”
“Right,” Mike is staring at Sam skeptically, “Thanks,” he disregards him the moment Sam scurries off to retrieve the bottle he just promised them, dumping it in the middle of the tray of shots Will had originally ordered.
He idles while Will and Mike continue to wait, Mike eventually breaking with an exasperated, “Well,” as if to encourage Will to return to their booth.
“I’ll be right there,” Will assures him, “Just give me a sec.”
Mike huffs in displeasure, snatching up the tray and returning to the rest of their friends throwing Will a withering glare as he does so. Will boldly ignores his attitude, quickly writing the phone number of the motel room he’s staying in while in town on a discarded napkin and sliding it to Sam.
“Call me later” He instructs with a wink before following Mike back to their friends. The rest of his evening looks a lot brighter.
Until he sat back amongst the men and suddenly found himself being volunteered for the private dance Mike had turned down out of respect for his fiancée. Will’s 100% certain he wants no part in what happens behind closed doors in a place like this and wastes no time in attempting to refuse the offer.
To be met by scoffs and judgemental sneers from Mike’s friends and uncomfortable glances between his. “Told ya,” One of the college friends murmurs to the other, likely believing his volume was more controlled than it was due to the alcohol, “He should be at the bachelorette party-“
“More shots” Dustin shouts reaching for the gifted bottle of whiskey, cracking it open, and pouring each of them a generous helping. Will slams his proffered shot instantly, avoiding the sympathetic gazes of his friends and the condemnatory ones of the rest.
“You are single?” The college friend asks Will directly, “That’s what the others said. You’re the only single one. Why won’t you take the dance?”
Will shrugs, not about to come out to his friends for the first time because a stranger called him out in a strip club, “Don’t want one.”
“If I didn’t have a misses-“
“You’d what? Be in a backroom already? Not all of us have to pay for it!” Will struck back, sick of the digging already.
“Touchy,” He leans back in his seat, a cruel smile forming as he nudges the other one, “We know how much your lot like a backroom-“
“Garrett” Mike scolds his friend as Will flinches at how direct he was in insulting him. It’s thankfully dropped after that. Garrett enthusiastically follows the dancer to a private room when everyone else continues to refuse and it leaves Will feeling sorry for his girlfriend.
Mike doesn’t ask him to leave for insulting Will. Didn’t even rebuke him further than saying his name in shock. There was a time, long ago, when if someone had said something like that about Will he would have defended him. He would have ceased to be friends with them. He would have supported him.
He drinks through the pain, shot after shot until the night grows late. Members of their group depart one by one until Will finds himself lumbered with getting Mike home, the drunk groom to be hanging off his arm. The quiet house welcomes them, empty of all inhabitants as they stumble in through the front door.
Shoes are kicked off in the hallway, and Will rummages in Mike’s fridge for some food to soak up the better part of a whole bottle of whiskey they consumed. Mike is digging through a drawer in the adjoining room.
Will returns to find mike holding a freshly rolled joint in the air gesturing with his head to the patio door questioningly. Will doesn’t usually mix alcohol and weed but tonight has been a shit show honestly and the way the mixture dulls the mind would be beneficial right now.
They are soon perched next to one another, on an old wooden bench, passing the joint between themselves. Will holds the smoke in his lungs and purposefully avoids thinking about how their lips share the wet butt of the paper.
It’s soon burnt down to nothing, and Will lets himself slip further into the weightlessness weed brings as he flicks the butt into the soggy grass, the ember burning out quickly.
The air was crisp and silent around the pair of them. Will breathed out a warm cloud of steam as he exhaled into the night staring up at the stars. The lack of sound should be eerie and yet Will feels comfortable as he leans back on the bench they share.
“I’m sorry,” Mike breaks the peaceful silence, “About not asking you to be my best man.” He elaborates at Will’s curious head tilt, “I know we always said when we were younge-“
Will cut him off, unwillingly to linger on broken promises “It’s fine, Mike.” It’s not like he could have ever asked in reverse. Gay marriage is not exactly an election winner.
Besides, it is fine. Because it is. They grew apart. They grew in different directions. It would be cruel for Will to hold Mike to promises of youth. He had no idea what he was truly promising at the time. It would be unfair.
“We’re not as close as when we were kids,” Will shrugs like it doesn’t hurt, “It happens.”
Mike stares at him with a pained expression that Will can’t place. Guilt shone in his eyes before he averts them, “That’s not why I didn’t ask.” He mumbles into his chest.
“Oh,”
That’s probably not good.
“Scared I’d outshine the groom, then” Will aims for levity wincing as it falls flat.
Mike sits in quiet contemplation beside him still avoiding facing him as he gazes out to the trees swaying in the breeze on the outskirts of the property. Mike’s silent for so long that Will thinks their conversation is over. Mike dropped what he said and was going to leave Will torturing himself with what it meant.
“I thought it would be for the best.” He whispers so quietly that Will can barely hear him, “Kinder.”
Will felt the stone that first appeared back in middle school settle itself firmly back in his gut, pressing into the soft walls of his insides. He’s almost certain he doesn’t, in fact, want to continue this conversation. More than willing to rewind ten minutes and pretend the only reason he and Mike aren’t close anymore was because of distance.
“Will-“ Mike takes a deep breath, ready to ask a question they’ve both been avoiding for well over a decade, and turns to stare directly into his eyes “Are you in love with me?”
What can he say? Yes? No? They’re both true and they’re both not.
“You’ve got a big ego, huh.”
“Will,” Mike ignores his attempt to divert their conversation, serious expression burrowing so deep that Will felt it in his soul.
“What do you want me to say, Mike.” Will finally sighs in exasperation the longer Mike stares at him.
“The truth.”
“What do you know about the truth!” Will spits at his oldest friend venomously, feeling like his entire being has been flayed and exposed to Mike’s judgment. They’ve been ignoring this their whole lives why did Mike have to ruin it?
“I know you’re gay,” Mike replies plainly.
“Whoop-de-do” Will rolls his eyes, “Mike Wheeler figured out the town fairy was gay. Call the presses.”
“Don’t say that.” Mike rebukes, making Will seethe in anger, “Don’t call yourself tha-“
“You don’t get to tell me what language I use to describe myself!” Will exploded pointing his finger at Mike threateningly, “If anyone gets to call me a fag, it’s me.”
Wear it like a coat of armor and maybe one day it won’t hurt.
If Will thought it was possible for Mike to look contrite it would be in this moment, fallen silent at Will’s lambasting.
“We don’t care, you know,” Mike taps his finger nervously against his knee, “Me, Lucas, and Dustin- We’ve never cared.”
Will snorts, “That’s why you’ve never asked before?” he mutters sarcastically, “Not once in fifteen years of friendship did one of you ever work up the courage to ask, hey Will still no girlfriend what’s up with that? Huh?”
“You never said anything either.” Mike narrows his eyebrows at him, “At any point, you could’ve just told us.”
“When Mike? When you pushed me to dance with that girl in middle school? Or what about when you said it wasn’t your fault, I didn’t like girls?” Will feels his fury grow exponentially as that memory hit him, “What about when Vecna was attacking us and showing me visions of the consequences if my dirty little secret got exposed?”
Will’s tone develops a dark edge, “Or how about in senior year when I got jumped by Troy and his buddies and they broke my arm? What was your advice, Mike? Do you remember because I do-“
“Will-“
“Don’t interrupt!” Will shouts, “What did you say, Mike?” He asks steel laced in his voice daring the other man to admit it. Wonders if he remembers them as crystal clearly as Will does.
“Will please, I didn’t know what-“
“What did you say, Mike?” Will speaks over him not wanting to hear excuses. If Mike wanted to talk about it, then they were going to talk about it.
All of it.
Will wants to feel pleasure at the pure shame plastered on Mike’s face, a sick satisfaction that his words hurt him too.
“That- that-“ Mike stutters struggling to delay the inevitable, “Maybe if you got a girlfriend they’d leave you alone.”
Will nods, “And” he encourages Mike to finish, “If I-“ he gestures for Mike to continue the sentence.
“Stop acting like a queer.” Mike forces out in one breath.
Will lets Mike’s words hang suspended in the cold air. The dull throb of pain at hearing them once more was nothing compared to the first time. When it felt like Mike had stabbed him through the chest, dying without dying. Saying the exact same words in the exact same tone as his dad.
Will raises an eyebrow at Mike, “Should I have told you then?”
“I was trying to help. Jesus Will, you were in the hospital. They could have killed you- if Mr Walker hadn’t called an ambulance-“ Mike was heaving, “I wasn’t tryin’ to- I didn’t mean- I was trying to keep you safe.”
“Well, you couldn’t. No one could. Besides-“Will crosses his arms against his chest, “we both know that’s not the only reason. Look maybe you’re okay with the gay thing now but don’t bother to deny it, Mike, you had an issue with it back then.” He stops Mike’s objection with a raised hand,
“You think I didn’t notice how I was conveniently excluded from guys’ night, hearing the next day about the wild party’s you guys had ended up at. Not being invited to sleepovers and if I was the not-so-subtle silent arguments between the three of you about who would be forced to sleep next to the queer. Fucking hell Mike, you flinched every time I touched you, let alone the way you shouted at me that one time I accidentally walked in when you were changing your shirt-”
“Yet you have the audacity to sit there and ask if I’m in love with you.” He finishes bitterly shaking his head.
Sour and sore after bringing up every awful thing that had driven him from this godawful town in the first place. This was a mistake. Will should never have come back.
“You’ve had nearly two decades to ask me this question?” Will pierces Mike with his stare, “Why now?”
Mike shuffles uncomfortably on the bench beside him, “Earlier, the bartender.”
“You’re bringing this up because I dared flirt with a guy in your presence?” Will doesn’t bother to curtail the condescension in his tone, “thought you were cool with it.”
“This isn’t California Will, you’ve got-“
“You think I don’t know that.” Will interrupts impatiently, “That I don’t know better than anyone how to be careful. Mike what do you want from me?” he begs his best friend desperately.
Mike meets his eyes steadily, “I want to know if you’re in love with me.”
“Why?” Will replies agonized, “What does it matter? What do you possibly have to gain from knowing?”
Mike’s face is warring in conflict, Will sees as he flips between emotions in quick succession, gnawing at his bottom lip, “Just answer the question, Will.”
Will frantically withholds the tears he feels pressing at the back of his eyes, betrayed that Mike kept pushing this, “No,” he forces out through clenched teeth.
“No, you aren’t in love with me or no you won’t answer the question?” Mike asks for clarification.
Will spits back, “Whichever one will end this conversation.”
“Why are you being so difficult?
“Why are you being so cruel?” Will rebukes making Mike jerk back like he’s been slapped, “This was a mistake-“ Will stands up getting ready to leave, “I’m going to go-“
“Will-“ Mike grabs his arm, enclosing his forearm with his long fingers, “Please- I need. We need to talk about this- We can’t keep- please.”
Will hasn’t moved since Mike touched him, eyes firmly planted in the distance as Mike pleads for him to stay and talk. For self-preservation’s sake, he should shake off Mike’s grip and march far from this cursed town and never return.
“You’re getting married, Mike.” Will reminds him spitefully.
“I know that!” Mike pulls his hand back like he’s been stung, “I wasn’t trying to- I wasn’t offering-“
“Then why are you so desperate to know if I’ve been secretly pining after you our entire lives?” Will’s voice comes out flat, dead, and emotionless. He wonders absently if Mike finally managed to do it. Break him.
“I never wanted to hurt you,” Mike admits, his words wet and honest.
At least he’s not denying that he did anymore, “I know.” Will agrees. Because he does.
“But I did?” Mike questions.
“Yes.”
Mike inhales, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,”
Most days at least.
“It’s not,” Mike whispers, “I wasn’t a good friend, for a long time, it’s just- Will- the way you used to look at me sometimes, I didn’t- I didn’t know how to handle that. What it meant for you- for us- it scared me.”
Will swallows the painful confirmation that Will had been the problem, he had always been the problem.
“I never wanted to hurt you.” Mike repeats, “I thought maybe if we finally talked about it, you could move on-“
Will spun on his heel to glare at Mike, “I’ve not been waiting around for you to realize you’re queer Mike. I’ve never expected anything! Not reciprocation or love. How pathetic do you think I am? All I ever wanted was my best friend.”
“Well, so did I!” Mike roars back, “All I wanted was my best friend, and instead I saw his heart break every time he looked at me.” A few tears slid down Mike’s cheeks, “I caused his heart to break. The most giving and kind person in the entire world decided he loved me, and I couldn’t love him back. Not the way he wanted.”
That was the crux of it, wasn’t it? Mike had always loved Will. Only, he loved him the way he needed not the way he wanted.
“You are my best friend; you should have been my best man, but I couldn’t ask you to stand beside me and ignore your pain to support me marrying someone else. I’m so sick of being cruel Will. I couldn’t ask you to do that.”
“I would of,” Will says. Voicing the answer, he knew was obvious. That’s why Mike didn’t ask.
“I do love you.” The words are honest and heart-breaking as Mike gazes at him with such sincerity yet still Will yearns for them to mean much more than what Mike is offering.
Even after all these years and countless denials to himself and others. Through countless one-night stands, hook-ups, and boyfriend after boyfriend.
“I love you too.” Will’s reply was filled with everything Mike’s was missing, he poured every time and every moment he had ever wanted to say those words to Mike into it and saw the moment it changed nothing.
He closes his eyes, “I hope you have a good wedding, Mike.” He says softly.
“You’re not coming?” Mike asks, taken aback.
Will stares at the boy he’s loved almost as long as he’s known what love is. Mike is right watching him get married would probably be the worst moment of his life. He was willing to expose himself to that when this thing between them went unspoken. What’s the point in being there if he’s going to be sad and his being sad will make Mike feel guilty?
“No, I don’t think I will.” He decides.
Mike’s face shutters briefly in pain, opening his mouth as if to persuade him before slamming his jaw closed, and jerkily nodding his head.
“I’ll see you around, Mike.”
“Will you?” Mike urgently asks as he turns to leave, making Will hesitate, the raw agony in Mike’s voice almost crumbling his resolve. This is what Mike wanted though, he caused it. Will had been content to sit silently in his hell. Mike had set him free; shouldn’t he take it?
He shrugs and keeps walking ignoring, the now openly weeping figure of the oldest and most important person in his life, behind him.
Maybe it was time he was the most important person in his life.
Maybe it was time to put himself first.