Chapter Text
Whistles blew loud enough to pierce someone’s ear canals. Sneakers squeaked off of the glossy gym floor, the ball bouncing loudly off of the ground over and over again. And Mike Wheeler?- Sat on the bleachers, his face squeezed into an odd expression with his nose scrunched up, in his very best, tried and true, attempt to understand Lucas' basketball game. He had taken up the beginning of freshman year, much to Mike’s (silent) disapproval.
Sure, it was nice to see that at least one member of the party had managed to blend in with the popular jocks, get invited to parties, and have actual girls show interest in them. But it also meant that Friday night Dungeons and Dragons in Mike's basement was almost always a no-go and almost always ended up being Mike, Will (and on occasion Dustin) playing Nintendo games or reading comic books until their eyes stung.
This wasn't the first intramural basketball game Mike had attended, but it did just so happen to be the first he had tried to understand what was even happening on the court—ever. It was the championship game, after all. The timer was ticking down, with about 2 minutes or so of the second quarter left on the clock. Hawkins school team, 'The Tigers' were tied with Christian Academy. As tension grew in the air, the boys scurried around crazily, jumping and dribbling around the court. Mike averted his glance over to Will, sitting next to him. Looking just as, if not more, completely and utterly confused with the sport. "What position does Lucas play again?" Mike asked loudly, raising his voice so it rang over the loud crowd gathered in the gymnasium. "I think he's the power forward?" Will replied, questioning his own words. "I have no idea what that’s supposed to be." Mike returned, "But I hope they win." "Me too." Will breathed back, slipping against the bleachers lazily.
Mike kind of hated his lack of knowledge about normal things like sports, but it wasn’t something he was going to dwell on. At least he’d never end up like his dad, on the couch every night, cursing at the football game or whatever was on the television.
Suddenly a loud whistle blew, causing the two boys to jump and turn their gaze towards the coach, huddling up the players. "What's he saying?" Mike questioned. "I don't know?" Will added back blandly, "Mike, I don't know any more about this than you do." Will laughed, peering over to his friend. "Sorry..” Mike finished, puffing out his cheeks as the boys on the court hurried back to their positions. 1 minute left, and still, nothing significant, at least to their knowledge, had happened yet. Tension was growing in the air, and even Mike and Will were growing anxious, even if they hadn't the slightest clue what was going on.
15 seconds, just then—Lucas captured the ball, dribbling across the court fast as lightning. He attempted to shoot, but set up for a pass. The ball flew through the air to the team captain, Chance Duffy. He caught it, and shot speedily as the timer ticked down. 5, 4, 3, 2.. the ball slammed through the net just as the timer began to blare! Students everywhere begin to holler and cheer so loudly. Mike was sure his ears would start to bleed any second. “Go Lucas!” Will yells loudly, receiving a smile from their friend on the court. Although Mike was unsure he would be able to hear him over all this racket if he wasn’t standing next to him.
They made their way out of the gym to the school entrance, where many clusters of loud and busy teens huddled in cars, windows down, blaring music and shouting. Mike cringed at the sight; he was most definitely not built for the average high school life. “Where is Lucas?” Mike whined annoyedly, “He’s our ride.” “Relax, Mike. He’s probably celebrating with his teammates or something.” Will groaned back, trying to stay positive. Mike just wanted to go home and flop onto his bed and fall asleep. Just then the school door flung open, and sounds of cheers and laughter approached.
“Mike! Will!” Lucas exclaimed, racing up to meet the two. “Lucas!” Mike smiled, growing anxious as the group of additional boys approached them. “Nice assist at the end there- er, whatever you call it.” Will chimed in awkwardly. Lucas smiled, “Hey guys. Thanks for coming. Seriously, it means a lot.” “Of course.” Mike added, “It’s what friends are for.” “Hey so, listen. I know I told you guys I’d give you a ride home,” and Mike didn’t even need Lucas to finish his words because he already knew where this conversation was going. And he also knew that he was fucked. “But there’s this really big afterparty, and I promised I’d give Chance a ride since his car’s in the shop, so we thought you two might want to tag along?” Lucas inquired. And Mike wouldn’t mind being killed right then and there, outside the school, on the street, because it might as well be less painful than this absolute hell hole he was about to be thrown right into.
Suddenly, Will grabbed his arm and piped up, “Sure, I don’t see why not.” Smiling. Was he seriously smiling?! “Perfect! Thank you guys so much! Seriously. Let’s get this party started!” Lucas replied excitedly, bounding off with the other boys further into the parking lot, Mike and Will lagging slightly behind, dreading what was to come next.
“I mean, he can’t seriously expect us to be okay with this? Why did you even agree with him?” Mike sputtered angrily. “Come on, Mike, live a little.” Will teased before sighing and opening the car door of Lucas’ Buick, squeezing himself into the middle seat in between Mike and Chance. Will always had to have a ‘positive’ outlook on things, and Mike swore it was going to be the death of him. Anxiety painted his features, and Mike wasn’t sure if anyone but himself could’ve noticed.
As they pulled out of the parking lot of the school, an awkward silence filled the car. Mike peered over at Will, who peered back nervously, a longing look in his eyes, before quickly turning his head to stare out of Mike’s window, his body stiff as a brick. Mike pokes his foot over towards Mikes, a secret language only they know. To which Will kicks back. This makes Mike’s face light up with joy, although he’s not sure why the peculiar practices that they have formed have that effect on him. But he’s not going to dwell on it. He has more important things to worry about, like his game plan for how to survive this party, not drink himself to death, and explain to his mom why he’s getting home so late.
“So.. Byers.” Oh Lord, help us all.. “What do you like to do—y'know—for fun?” Chance questioned. Is this guy serious? “I- uh uhm. I paint. Sometimes.” Will replied anxiously, fumbling around with his hands in his lap. "Oh, that’s cool! Me too.” He exclaimed, “Maybe you could show me some of your art sometime.” “Cool, yeah, definitely.” Will sputtered, his face growing red with heat. Mike’s stomach churned at the scene he was witnessing. Probably just hungry.
————
Once they had arrived, the atmosphere alone made Mike want to walk home even more than he already did. Teenagers wildly hollering, the smell of smoke and alcohol in the air, loud music blasting from the record player. It made his head hurt just thinking about it. But he wasn’t going to let his own discomfort ruin his night, no way. That would be like letting someone purposely beat him at Mario Kart, which he (almost) never does. (Except for nights when he feels bad for Will and his lack of skill at the game.) So when Josh, one of Lucas’ other teammates, offered him a red solo cup filled with god knows what, Mike had no second thoughts, drinking the whole cup full in a matter of seconds. And another. And another. And it’s safe to say that Mike will not be the designated driver home from a party—ever. Will, on the other hand, didn’t touch a drop. He wouldn’t, although Mike sometimes thought that he should. It might do him some good; take a couple pounds of stress off of the guy. But he really wasn’t complaining about having someone there to keep him on his feet. Will seemed preoccupied gazing across the room, people watching. Or, in this case, person watching.
“I still can’t believe Lucas, bringing us here.” Mike added, already beginning to feel the effects of his drinks. "Yeah, I’m not quite sure we fit in with the crowd here.” Will added grimly, his nose scrunching up. "Well, at least we have each other.” Mike added quickly, not giving a second or thought to the words escaping his lips. This had earned a few seconds of silence from the two. “We’ll always have each other.” Will shot back softly, smiling up at the boy next to him.
“Yo, Byers!” Adam, another one of the boys from the basket team, bounded towards them, clearly heavily intoxicated. Will’s eyebrows quickly rose at the sound of his name as he visibly tensed and turned to face the boy. “Chance told me to come get you. He wants you over there.” The boy added, giggling as if he were a middle school girl talking to her best friend's crush.
“I- uh- okay!” Will added, looking up to Mike. “Mike If you don’t want me to go, I can totally stay here with you; I don’t want anything to happen to you. How would I explain to your paren-“ Will explained before Mike cut him off. “No! Nooooo! You seriously don’t have to do that. I’m fiiiine. Go see him or.. whatever.” Mike slurred, his mind fuzzy from the alcohol. “Seriously? Thanks, Mike, you’re the best ever!” Will exclaimed happily, throwing his arms around Mike's neck, holding him for maybe just a beat too long to be considered a ‘normal’ hug, and scurrying away towards where he assumed Chance to be waiting before Mike had had gotten a second to react. “Can somebody pour me another shot?” Mike shouted, slinking his way back to the kitchen.
And just like that, he was alone. Will had left him all alone at a big house party, one he didn’t even want to be at in the first place. Why not get blackout drunk?
———
“Come on, Mike, let’s go.” Lucas annoyedly sputtered before shoving him into the backseat of his Buick. Mike couldn’t think. Next thing he knew, Will was sitting beside him engaged in an energetic conversation with Chance about paint pastels. Chance’s house was the first stop on their way home, but as he jumped out of the car before making his way into his stupidly rich house, he pulled a small piece of paper out of his back pocket, placing it gently in Will's hand. “Call me?” He added to Will, who nodded eagerly in agreement, cradling the scrap of paper in his palm. as Chance waved goodbye, making his way inside. Geez, who does this guy think he is? Because he was seriously starting to piss Mike off.
“So how did it go? Y’know, with Chance?” Mike questioned to Will flatly as Lucas’ car approached the street his house was on. “Amazing! I’ll have to tell you all of the details once you're sober, but, oh my god, Mike. This might have been the best night of my life.” And if you could see the way Will’s eyes glimmered, you'd know he meant every word he had just said. Mike would know. Especially Mike. “Great. Call me like tomorrow.” Mike replied flatly, stumbling from the car. He was going to need an Advil. Fuck that he was going to need 3. “Let me help you inside.” Will insisted, grabbing a hold of Mike’s hand and gently guiding him towards the front porch of his home before gently nudging the door open. But much to Mike’s demise, as soon as the door opened, there his mom sat. In their living room, with a glass of red wine and an angry expression enveloping her face. Oh shit, oh fuck—
“Where the hell have you been? It’s nearly 2 o’clock in the morning, Michael!” She exclaimed, rising from the couch to come and investigate the current state of her son. “You smell like alcohol. Mike, you should know what underage drinking does to your brain development! You’re hardly 18!” She grimaced in horror. “S’ fine, mom—just let me go to bed. I’m tired.” Mike added groggily, turning towards the staircase of his home. “Fine. But I expect full, truthful answers first thing in the morning. Oh, and Will, sweetie, you should hurry home. Your mom called a little while ago. She sounded worried sick, and I can’t blame her. After everything you’ve been through..” “Oh shit yeah! I should probably get going now. Goodnight, Mrs. Wheeler! Tell Mike I said goodnight too.” Will shouted, scurrying out of their front door into the driveway.
As soon as Mike reached the edge of his bedframe, he collapsed into it, not even bothering to change his clothes. And now he was left to sit in silence. With just his thoughts. Which was almost never a good thing for Mike. Was Will really going to get a boyfriend? It sure seemed like he hit it off with Chance just fine. Mike’s stomach flipped again at the thought, but it surely had to be due to the alcohol. Who would’ve thought? Will 'Zombie Boy' Byers and Hawkins’ basketball team captain. Mike wasn’t sure he liked the idea of it, or if he liked Chance, for that matter. But he was too tired tonight to do anything about it, or think too much about it for that matter. Still, the empty pit in his stomach growing every time his mind wandered back to Chance and Will. Until he was sure it would envelope him whole, and that’s when he fell asleep.