Work Text:
Mike knew he loved Will.
Everyone did. Just by watching one interaction of the two boys, anyone could tell just how much Mike cares for him. He turned into this gentle person, around Will. He spoke kinder and thought more about his actions.
It has always been Mike and Will. No matter what happened, the two of them had been best friends since day one.
So, yeah. Mike knew he loved Will. But somewhere along the way, he supposes it turned into something a little bit more.
The new feeling was much bigger than the one before. It was strong and prevalent and so terrifying that Mike couldn't do anything but hide from it. He hid behind his anger and El and himself.
He just now stopped hiding from himself, recently.
Him and his friends were basically sitting ducks in Hawkins, waiting for Vecna to recover and make the next more. No one had a clue when that would be.
The pre-apocalyptic life wasn’t horrible.
Most of Mike's days are spent at the school, volunteering at the help center, or Hoppers cabin training. El and Joyce were staying with Hop there, leaving Jonathan, his friend Argyle, and Will at his own house.
Jonathan and Argyle stayed in the basement, though everyone knew the older Byers was sneaking up to Nancy's room every night.
Will stayed in Mike's room. With him in it.
Him and El broke up shortly after they got back to Hawkins. Neither of them were happy anymore, but it was mostly because of Mike's feelings for someone else.
That certain someone was currently laying on a pad beside him, in his shirt and sweatpants (Mike had a hard time hiding his panic the first time he saw Will in his clothes).
It’s cold; Mike being a little chilly even with his comforter. Will lies awake, staring at the ceiling.
‘He likes it cold.’
Mike purses his lips.
“Hey, Will?”
The other boy is visibly shaken by the sudden noise, probably thinking Mike was fast asleep.
Will rolls from his back onto his side to face him. His hair has grown longer, now more of a shag than a bowl cut. It sways across his forehead at the movement. “Yeah?”
They’re more comfortable with each other than they were in California, but their relationship is still nothing like it once was.
Mike looks over his face, trying to read him. Something that once came so easily, takes more thought these days. “Are you cold?”
The edge of Will's lips quirk up into a smirk.
Oh yeah- another new thing. Will smirks now.
“I’m fine Mike,” he says softly. The small amount of light coming from the uncovered area on his window shines in his eyes. “Are you cold?” he asks back.
Mike smiles, turning to fully face Will. He probably looks like a living zombie, while Will somehow looks like some sort of angel. Sleep deprived and all.
“I just…” he starts, “You can come up here, if you ever…”
Will's eyebrows raise, obviously surprised by the offer.
“If you ever get cold, or like…scared, or, i don’t know.”
The other boy is silent, staring back at him. Mike immediately regrets the offer, and rolls back onto his back. “Just- forget I said-”
“Like old times?”
He turns back over to Will. His eyes are blown wide and he looks almost hopeful. Mike smiles.
“Sure, like old times.”
Will sits up, the knitted blanket that was wrapped around him falling into his lap. “Are you sure? Cause I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything…”
Mike's eyebrows quirk, confused. How could Will, ever, make Mike feel anything but perfectly at home?
He shakes his head violently, and with that, Will is standing up.
Mike scoots over, fluffing the pillow his head had been on, heart racing. He looks back at Will when he feels him pulling back the covers. He looks at Mike, giving his one last questioning look.
His smile is the only answer he needs.
Will slides into the warmth of the comforters, apologizing when his cold leg brushes against Mikes.
Then they are both lying, facing each other. It feels much more intimate than Mike was expecting. He can’t help the giddy grin on his face and he looks at Will.
“This is nice,” Will whispers. He looks over Mike's face slowly, making the other boy suddenly very aware of the lack of space in between them.
Mike shimmies closer, legs tangling with Wills.
It’s almost like they’re communicating solely through touch. Just like when they were younger.
“Yeah,” Mike breathes back. He almost doesn't want to speak, the sounds feeling too loud for the moment. He watches as Will’s hand rises from under the cover, and crosses the bridge between them, caressing his face. Mike melts onto the touch.
Will’s thumb gently strokes his face, an unfamiliar look on his face. Mike’s eyes trace the outline of his face, landing back on his gaze. Will lets out a very quiet sigh, frown on his lips but eyes smiling.
“You make it so hard to fall out of love with you.”
There's this ache in Mike’s heart, realization running through his bones. He places a hand over Will's hand on his face, moving so close that their foreheads are touching.
“Then don’t.”
A question.
An answer.
Will moves his hold from his cheek over until he's caressing the nape of his neck. Their noses brush, less than inch between their lips.
“Youre so…”
Mikes mouth is on his before he's able to finish his sentence.
It’s slow at first, simply a brush of lips. But it quickly turns into passion and gasps and heavy breathing.
The boys part after a few moments. Will's eyes are blown wide and his lips are pinker than before and for the first time in his life Mike wishes he had Will's talent to capture moments with paints and pencils
“I don’t think I’ll ever fall out of love with you,” he says.
It's more of a promise than a guess.