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Will knows he should be back downstairs in Mike's basement celebrating their joint birthday party with the rest of his friends, but it's all a little too much.
Combining their birthdays has been a long-standing tradition for him and Mike. Their birthdays are about two weeks apart, and they're best friends, so it's always made sense. They didn't celebrate Will's fifteenth (everyone forgot, thanks, Vecna), and his sixteenth got lost somewhere in their battle with Vecna. It didn't seem as important as everything else going on. He and Mike wished each other happy birthday in passing, and nothing else was brought up, so Will didn't press any further.
This year, even though Vecna had been taken down and Max was finally awake and on the road to recovery, Will still didn't expect to celebrate. He assumed it'd be another year of brief birthday wishes, maybe getting together with the Party just to be together, and then they'd go home. A typical night, really.
But Mike insisted.
"It'll be fun! Like old times, you know?"
Will shrugs. "I didn't think you cared about that stuff anymore."
"What?" Mike looks at him like he's speaking a foreign language. "Of course I do. Why wouldn't I?"
I don't know. I guess I got the wrong message when you forgot about my birthday in Lenora and barely brought it up last year.
Will doesn't respond, but apparently, the look on his face says it all for him.
Mike sighs, and the frown on his face makes Will feel guilty. He apologized profusely—multiple times, actually—over the past year for everything. They're in a better spot now, for sure, but Mike has been acting weird around Will for the past little while. Not distant. Just… weird.
"Look, Will," Mike says after a beat, and there's a look in his eyes that Will knows. It's calculated like he's making sure what he says next is the right thing. "I want to make it up to you. The past few years, I mean."
"You don't need to do that, Mike. You already apologized," Mike doesn't look too satisfied with Will's answer. "And I already said I forgive you."
The thing is, Mike has been 'making it up to Will' since they got back to Hawkins.
It was weird at first. Mike watching over him like a hawk made him feel like he was twelve again. Not that Will was bothered by it— but after the past two years of distance (both figuratively and literally), it was a little odd.
It wasn't easy, either.
They still bickered a lot, which hurt Will more than he wanted to admit. Even then, Mike insisted on sticking around. Which led to some tough conversations. But they helped.
At first, Will thought it was because he was a liability or something. Vecna had been targeting Will since day one, so maybe Mike was trying to cover all his bases. Making sure that Vecna didn't have even more guilt to feed off of for either of them. That was part of it, sure, but then the other part was that Mike did care. He did want to fix things between them.
Which led to the unavoidable: the painting.
It was a confusing night. Mike returned to his house after visiting El at the cabin, completely out of sorts. He'd been acting weird, but this was different. Mike seemed hurt. Upset. Confused. Maybe a little angry, but mostly confused. Like he'd been wracking his brain on the way back home, trying to figure out something, and he was so close, but he couldn't piece it together himself.
Not without Will.
"We broke up," is all Mike said. Then he tossed the painting onto the table in front of Will. "Why did you lie?"
Will didn't move from his spot on the couch. He glanced up at Mike and took one look at the pain written all over his face before tearing his gaze away and looking back at the painting. Mike was bound to find out, and Will knew this. He just thought it would have been sooner, and then after a while, maybe it would have been long enough for it not to matter anymore.
Six months had passed since he'd given Will the painting. So, clearly, that wasn't the case.
"I'm not mad, Will," he tries again. That may not be the entire truth, but it's not enough to be classified as a lie. Not like Will's lie, anyway. "I'm just confused, okay? Why would you tell me all that stuff about El if it wasn't true?"
"I thought it was what you needed to hear," Will explains carefully. "Did you hear the way you were talking about yourself? I hated that. I needed you to know you were wrong."
Mike shakes his head. "But it wasn't true. El didn't say any of that. She didn't know what I was talking about," his voice wavers. "You lied, Will."
"It wasn't a lie, Mike."
"Yes, it was!"
Will was tired of this. Every time he thought they were getting somewhere or that things were finally getting back to normal for them, they fought. He didn't want to do this anymore. He didn't have the energy for it. Not with the Upside Down ravaging Hawkins and everyone waiting for Vecna to make his next move. He didn't have the energy to fight with Mike anymore, not when he could still sense Vecna, the Mind Flayer, or whatever he was supposed to call him these days.
But Mike was always there. Before, during, and after fights. In their good moments and in their bad moments. Mike refused to leave Will's side, which was infuriating. He missed his best friend, and he loved him— like, really, loved him. But Will was tired of this back and forth, and it needed to stop.
"Would it have made a difference if I told you it came from me?" Will argued. "If I told you that I was the one that felt that way, would it have made you feel the same way? Or would it not have mattered?"
Mike stood there, dumbfounded. "What?"
"You heard me, Mike," Will challenged. "I'll ask again: would it have made a difference?"
Will sat there, and Mike stood there, silent. Will wasn't sure he wanted an answer. Mike still looked confused, like he wasn't sure what to say. Like he was still piecing things together in his mind.
"Everything I said was true, Mike. It just didn't come from El," he lowered his voice. "It came from me."
Mike was standing, but from this angle, he looked so small. Will hated it.
Mike's voice was small as he spoke. "You're just saying that."
Will let out an exasperated sigh and buried his head in his hands. "I'm not, Mike."
"I don't get it. If that were true, why not just tell me that?"
"Because, Mike!" Will argued. "You spent the past year distancing yourself from me, and when you finally came around, we fought again, and all you did was worry about El. I get it, she's your– was your girlfriend, but we were best friends, and that didn't seem to mean anything to you," Mike stood in front of him and waited. "I care about you, Mike, but you wouldn't have cared if I were saying all that. And it was me, by the way."
"No," Mike started. "You don't get to decide that for me, Will."
"Well, what else was I supposed to think? You'd been pushing me away for over a year, Mike. You couldn't even hug me at the airport, yet you were all over El. I assumed you stopped caring a long time ago."
"I would've cared if you told me it was from you, Will!" Mike insisted. He ran a hand through his hair. "Things were weird. Things are weird. I thought you didn't need me anymore, and I didn't know how to act around you anymore. You were different," he trailed off for a moment and sighed. "But I missed you, Will. I really fucking missed you," his voice shook. "I wanted the painting to be from you. When you told me it wasn't… I told myself I was right. That you'd moved on, or whatever. I hated that."
"I missed you too, Mike," Will admitted. "I'm sorry I lied. I just—"
Mike cut him off. "Don't apologize."
Will stopped. This was exhausting. He didn't know what either of them was getting at here.
"I was awful to you, Will. I've been trying to make it up to you, but I keep messing it up. But I'm the one who made you feel like you couldn't be honest, right?"
It was a little true, but Will knew he hadn't been the best either. He'd been trying to ice Mike out— get over him, and move on. But Mike wouldn't go away. Whenever Will had been sure that Mike was okay without him, he'd waltz back into Will's life unannounced and take back his residence in Will's heart. It was frustrating.
But Mike had been flakey for so long, too.
Every time Will would let him back in, they'd argue. He was tired.
"Are you okay, Mike?" Will asked, completely ignoring Mike's question.
Mike sighed and plopped himself on the couch next to Will. Their knees bumped together, and it felt electric, like every time Mike touched him. Even if this was accidental.
But Mike never broke the distance.
"I think I should have broken up with El a long time ago. But I was scared. We still need each other, I think, just… as friends, you know?"
Will nodded. Yeah, I know.
"Right now," Mike continued, "I want my best friend back. I'm sorry I made you feel like you couldn't be honest with me. I was a dick," Mike laughed dryly. "If you really mean it, if you really meant what you said, then thank you. There's a lot going on right now. I'm scared. We're all scared. And I don't want any of us to do it alone."
He finally looks at Mike, and he's so close, and Will mentally slaps himself when he glances down at Mike's lips. He's certain he's lost his mind when he sees Mike do the same.
"We need you," Mike says. His gaze softens, and his voice lowers. "I need you, Will."
To spare the details, they both cry. Will doesn't come out to Mike—not yet—but it had been enough to repair some of what had been broken.
Things never stopped being weird, but the arguing came to a halt. Mike was nicer, at least around Will. He was acting strange, though. He still hung around Will all the time, albeit it was hard not to when the Byers were staying at the Wheeler house. Mike seemed out of it most of the time, which Will chalked down to the fact that they were experiencing the apocalypse. It felt like more than that, though, like all his moves around Will were calculated. Will couldn't figure it out, though.
Will came out to Mike before the rest of the Party, in the dark of the night, in fear, when he could feel that Vecna was ready to attack. Mike (surprisingly? Unsurprisingly?) took it well and held Will as he cried.
He came out to his parents and the rest of the Party the next day. Before Vecna took that away from him too.
They defeated Vecna later. They all made it out alive.
Will had somehow avoided admitting his feelings for Mike. Even with Mike knowing he was gay, it never felt right. First, it was Vecna, then life kept happening. And Mike still felt so far away. Will had lost hope that Mike would ever feel the same, but then he clung to Will even more once Vecna and the Upside Down were gone, and Will was confused.
Mike's touches lingered, and he was gentle. He talked to Will in that same soft voice he always did and insisted on spending all his free time with Will. Even though they didn't live in the same house anymore (the Byers and Hoppers moved in together), Mike was over all the time. He and El were on good terms, which made things easier.
Now they're here, at Will and Mike's shared birthday party. The one that Mike insisted on. Because he wanted to spend more time with Will and go back to old times.
Whatever old times meant, anyway.
It didn't feel like old times. There was something off about Mike, and Will still couldn't put a finger on it. The way he was treating Will was fine. More than fine, really, but it just seemed like Mike was worrying about something all the time.
Will wanted to ask. He really did. But he didn't. He and Mike were finally getting back to being Will and Mike, and Will didn't want to jeopardize that by scaring Mike away and asking him to share something he clearly wasn't ready to share.
He had to trust Mike and trust that he'd open up to Will when he was ready.
As far as old times went, it wasn't like old times for Will to skip out mid-birthday party and sit by himself. The attention was overwhelming, and it still felt weird to celebrate like this after everything and after so many missed celebrations. He wasn't sure he liked his birthday anymore.
So Will excused himself and made his way up to the roof outside of Mike's room.
He should've brought a jacket or something, though, because it was March, and the evenings were still cold. The cold was uncomfortable and reminded him of less pleasant things.
"What are you doing up here?"
Will jumps slightly at the unexpected interruption but calms when he registers Mike's voice. Before he can respond, Mike is climbing out and sitting next to him. He takes off his jacket and rests it on Will's shoulders.
"Thanks."
"'Course," Mike smiles. "I know you're not too fond of the cold."
Will flushes. "Yeah, I keep forgetting it still gets cold at night in March."
Mike chuckles. He shuffles a bit closer so his thigh presses against Will's. Will suddenly feels like he's burning up, and looking at Mike feels like a lot, so he looks back up at the stars. It's nice to be able to see them again.
They stay like that for a while, looking up at the stars, pressing further into each other's sides, until Mike breaks the silence again.
"Was the birthday party idea too much?" he asks softly. "Sorry if I forced you into it. I thought it'd be nice," Will watches as he picks at the fabric of his jeans. "I'm just trying to make things feel as normal as possible."
"Normal," Will echoes and laughs. "I don't even know what that means anymore."
He pulls Mike's jacket tighter around his figure. It feels like armour.
"The party is fine, Mike, I swear," Will assures him.
He watches Mike visibly relax at this. It's just another thing that Will has noticed about Mike. He seems so tense around Will. For the past year and a half, honestly. Will doesn't get it. They don't even fight anymore, but it's like Mike is waiting for Will to wake up one day and tell Mike to piss off.
"I didn't get you a gift," Mike blurts out after a beat.
Will scrunches his face and looks at Mike, confused. "What?"
"I've been really distracted, and I forgot to get you a gift for your birthday."
Will shrugs. He didn't ask for a gift. "It's fine, Mike."
"I always get you a gift. Always."
"Mike, I said it's fine—"
"You deserve better, Will, I wanted today to be perfect—"
"Mike—"
"I insisted on this whole thing, and I forgot to get you a gift, I'm such an idiot—"
"Mike!"
Mike's mouth seals shut, and he frowns. What on earth is going on with him?
"Just take a deep breath, okay? Stop stressing yourself out so much. Today has been great, and I don't need a gift," Will soothes. "I just came up here because I needed a breather. I haven't had this much attention directed at me since, you know…"
Mike nods. Vecna. They don't need to say his name to know.
"My point is, I don't need a gift. I'm happy just spending time with you," Will admits.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
Will was sure that his feelings for Mike would fade eventually, but boy, was he wrong.
Distance makes the heart grow fonder, they say. Whoever they were, they were right. Moving to Lenora made Will realize just how much he felt for Mike. Then they were together, but Mike was so distant, and Will ached for him even more. Then things changed, and Mike was a constant and beaming presence in Will's life again, and how was Will supposed to let go of him like that?
It felt wrong to be in love with his sister's boyfriend, and it still feels wrong to be in love with his sister's ex-boyfriend, but El doesn't care at all. She figured it out on her own— because she's El. And she keeps nagging Will to tell Mike already, but he can't.
He just can't.
He'd lost so much already, and he'd lost Mike what felt like a million times over, and this might just be the nail in the coffin. If Mike found out and hated him for it, Will doesn't know what he'd do.
"Do you remember what you said to me in the van a couple years ago?" Mike asks. "After you gave me the painting?"
Will's head snaps over to Mike. Mike is so close that Will feels dizzy. They're fully pressed against each other now. Will doesn't need a jacket anymore. Mike's body heat is enough to keep him warm.
"'Course," Will says. How could I forget?
Mike takes a deep breath in, exhales, then continues. "You said when you're different, you sometimes feel like a mistake. But I make you feel like you're better for being different," he tilts his head at Will. "Right?"
Will blinks. He nods again. What's this got to do with anything? Why is Mike so close? He looks really pretty in the moonlight. When did his body turn to face Will? When did Mike's hand land on his knee? Focus, Will. Focus.
"I've been thinking about that a lot recently. For the past two years, I've been wracking my brain, trying to understand what you were trying to tell me. Like, really tell me, you know?" Will's blood runs cold, and he wants to run away, but Mike's hand is in his own now, and it's nice. "Ever since you moved to Lenora, I've felt different and couldn't figure out why. Not until recently."
"What do you mean?" Will worries. Is Mike okay?
"I know we've talked about this before, but I need to say this, okay?"
Will squeezes his hand. They're holding hands. "Okay."
"That summer when things kind of went to shit, I was so focused on being with El that I pushed you away. I was so worried that if I focused on anything else, I'd fuck everything up. And you called me out on it, and I pushed you away because you were right. You were so right, and I was an asshole," Will winces. He doesn't like thinking about it. "Then you moved away, and having you so far away made me realize how hard it was to live without you. It hurt so much, and that scared me."
Will had felt that before. When he moved to California, too.
"I did the same thing again, and I pushed you away. I was so scared of losing you that I pushed you away, and then I did lose you, which hurt even more. But then we were okay again for a bit, yeah? And I thought, cool, I have my best friend and girlfriend back. But it still felt wrong. Everything you told me in the van felt wrong."
Will's face falls, and Mike rushes to correct himself.
"Not like that!" Mike assures him. "Not wrong, I just— I just wanted all of that to be from you. I wanted you to think about me like that. And when you told me it was from El, I thought that was it. Like, I'd lost you for good or something."
"But then we talked, and you told me it was from you. And things finally made sense for once— it felt right. And that scared me too. Things felt different, but they felt right," Mike searches Will's eyes for something, Will's not sure. "Does that make sense?"
"I think so," Will knows why it felt different for him. For Mike, he wasn't too sure. For Will, it was an admittance of his feelings. He loves Mike. He needs Mike, and he always will.
Mike swallows, and Will swears he sees Mike's eyes flicker down to his lips. It's dark out, though, so he's probably just seeing things.
"Ever since that talk, I've been trying to piece things together. I've been trying to understand why I wanted all of that to be from you, why it hurts too much to be without you, why it's always been easier with you than it has been with anyone else, why I feel this magnetic pull to you, why it feels right when I'm close to you like this," he glances down at their intertwined hands. "I've been scared, and I thought that maybe you wouldn't need me anymore after all of this stuff was over, and I thought that maybe things would change and my feelings would go away…"
Mike's jacket feels very heavy now. Will would shake it off because he's sweating enough to sustain his body heat, but he's frozen in time with Mike looking at him the way he is. Desperate. Searching… searching for something.
"But, Will, every-fucking-day I feel more for you than I did the day before, and I can't handle it anymore."
That's when it clicks for Will.
These past few years of dancing around each other, Mike pushing closer and Will not backing away. That was Mike testing the waters. That was Mike trying to figure out why he felt the way he did about Will. It's the same thing Will went through a few years before when he tried to understand why it meant so much that Mike stuck by his side.
It's what led to Will realizing that he has feelings for Mike.
Which meant… what, exactly?
Will's voice shakes, "Mike…"
Mike doesn't let him finish his thought, and Will isn't sure what he would've said anyway.
"I love you, Will," Mike says, and it feels like fireworks in Will's chest. "I'm sorry I took so long to figure it out, but it's always been you," he brings a hand up to cup Will's cheek. "I want to be enough for you."
"You fucking idiot," Will laughs through his cries. "You've always been enough, Mike."
They let their heads fall forward and bump together. Will sits there as Mike cups his cheeks, and Will's hands rest on Mike's shoulders. It should be more complicated, but it's Mike. He makes sense. He's always made sense to Will. None of it matters if he gets to have Mike like this.
The cool spring air dances around them, and Mike's hands are warm and comforting on Will's face. Will cries and cries and cries, and Mike wipes away his tears, and it feels like home.
"Can I kiss you?" Mike whispers.
It's a stupid question, but one that Will has wanted Mike to ask him for years.
"Please do," Will pleads.
There are no butterflies or electricity like everyone talks about when Mike leans in. When his lips press into Will, it's just Mike. It's perfect because it's Mike. Mike kisses him the way he speaks, confident and with purpose, but it's also uncoordinated and a little improvised. He tastes like the pizza they shared earlier, which is a little weird, but perfect.
It's perfect when Will pulls back for air, and Mike chases to capture his lips again. It makes Will feel the happiest he's felt in a long time. He giggles as Mike peppers kisses around his face, nose, and jaw. It's perfect. Did he mention that it's perfect?
"I love you so much, Mike," Will finally returns the sentiment. It's a weight off his shoulders— one he's been carrying far too long, but something he accepted a long time ago. Now, when he admits it, he's comforted by the fact that Mike feels the same way.
Mike smiles against Will's lips.
"Happy birthday, Will."