Chapter Text
“Attention, all passengers,” the crackly voice of a flight attendant over the PA announced. Mike startled awake. “We will be landing in sunny California soon. Please ensure your tray tables are pushed up, baggage is secured, and seatbelts fastened.” Mike’s stomach swooped. He hadn’t seen his friends for so long. He had called daily for the first few months, but the line was always busy because of Joyce’s telemarketer job.
Spring break was the perfect time to reconnect and learn with El without life-threatening situations getting in the way. I can’t wait to see her beautiful face again. I hope these flowers are the right ones. What if she doesn’t like me anymore? Worries flooded through Mike’s head. El’s letters had spoken of friends and fun, and he had a nagging feeling that she would pull away from him again, would rather hang out with her friends and the cute boys in California than wait three weeks for his letters to return to her.
Well, he thought, even if that does happen, I’ll still get to be around Will. But then again, the negative voice in the back of his head decided to make an appearance.
You’ve been out of contact with him for so long - he might be at his friends’ houses the whole time - or maybe - he has a girlfriend! He’s not yours anymore. He’ll spend all his time with her just like you and El did when you first started dating, he’ll leave you out of everything, deny you any attention…
El had said Will was making a painting for someone he liked, and Will was quite attractive. There was no way he hadn’t caught the eye of some blonde Cali surfer girl. The thought twisted Mike’s stomach, although he didn’t know why.
The plane started its descent and the excitement in Mike’s body swelled. He once again doubted that his outfit was what people actually wore in California, as Max had told him. “If you want to impress W- El,” she had said, “You need to dress like the locals!” She then proceeded to pick out the most eye-straining ensemble Mike had ever seen. And flip-flops. Flip-flops. They were not practical at all. Not one bit.
You’re bound to embarrass yourself, the nagging voice said.
The plane touched down and Mike retrieved his carry-on from the overhead bin. The sunglasses in the front pocket fell and hit him on the head. Might as well wear them, he thought and slipped them on. He fastened his Day-Glo orange visor across his forehead as he walked through the extending hallway into the airport. He followed the crowd into the high-ceilinged atrium, eyes roaming for the familiar sight of the Byers. The room was filled with people calling out names, the clamour of the doors, shoes squeaking across the tile. Mike fiddled with the hem of his sun-yellow shirt.
The Byers forgot you. As soon as your mom got home from dropping you off at the airport, Joyce called and said El didn’t want you there. You’ll be stranded in California…
Mike switched the flowers from one sweaty hand to another, dropping a purple one in the process. As he bent down to retrieve it, he caught a glance of a familiar short-clad leg. Almost getting whiplash from turning his head around, he looked into the face of… not Will. “Sorry,” Mike stuttered. “I-I thought you were someone else,”
Not-Will looked him in the eye, gave him a once-over, and promptly turned on his heel and left, muttering something about tourists. Did he really look that much different? Mike decided to sit down on a nearby bench and wait. He watched the flow of people meander around the airport, heart racing whenever he saw someone who looked even remotely like one of the Byers. He bounced his legs, twiddled his thumbs, and rearranged the flowers, but the Byers still had not arrived. Looking at the clock, Mike realised that his plane had arrived an hour earlier than he had told Joyce. Mike had never owned the best memory. The slight panic subsided as Mike noted they should be here in the next quarter hour.
I could find something for Will in one of these stores! Mike had brought flowers for El after she sent a letter expressing her disappointment that California did not have the beautiful spring flowers of Hawkins, Indiana. But he had forgotten anything for Will.
Of course, you did. You’re a terrible friend and Will is never going to forgive you. He’s made many other friends who have gotten to know him better in five months than you did in ten years. He’s not yours anymore…
“Mike!” A familiar voice squealed from behind. He spun around to find the round face of El, who threw herself into his arms, giggling happily.
“Oh, careful! Careful, careful,” Mike said, pulling away. “You’re squishing your present!” He presented El with the drooping but full bouquet. “It’s a gift. I hand picked these for you in Hawkins,” El’s smile grew. “I know you like yellow, but now I’m realising it’s too much yellow. I know you also like purple, so I got you purple as well!” Shit, he thought. One glimpse of her face and I’m already rambling. “So I did like a seventy/thirty split kind of thing,” Shut up Mike, shut up.
El read the tag on the flowers: To El, From Mike. “They are perfect. Thank you,” she grinned, but her eyes were sad. Behind her, Jonathan and Will ran up. Oh my god. Will- Will has really grown. Mike, slightly taken aback by Will’s appearance, gives him a weird half-side-hug. Great going, Mike. Way to ruin the moment. Will’s muscular forearms were accentuated by the blue flannel, and he had grown almost a foot. Yeah. There’s no way he is still single. He and Will exchanged cordial greetings.
Mike’s eyes drifted to the rolled-up something in Will’s arms. “What’s that?”
Will looked at him, surprised. “It’s nothing. Just this painting I’ve been working on,”
Jealousy surged in Mike’s chest. Sure, he had hundreds, possibly thousands, of Will’s drawings in his room and the basement, but he felt strangely possessive over Will’s artwork. The thought of him giving it to some girl made him sick. “Cool,” he said and turned toward Jonathan. The tall guy standing next to him looked Mike up and down. “Rad shirt, man,” he said. Jonathan introduced the guy as his friend, Argyle. Strange name, Mike thought. He and Jonathan smelled faintly of weed. Mike wrinkled his nose. He wasn’t one to do drugs, but he recognised the smell from his DM, Eddie.
As they strolled out of the airport, Mike wrapped his arm around El. “I have our whole day planned. First, El Rodeo for burritos,” she spouted good-naturedly.
“What, really? Burritos for breakfast?” The thought of having anything but cereal or toast and eggs for breakfast, barring the occasional cinnamon roll or pancake, was unfamiliar to Mike.
“Yes. Trust me,” El smiled.
“Yeah, no, I trust you. It’s just, y’know, a little weird,”
El grinned as they approached the doors. “Then, after burritos, I want to go to Rink-O-Mania,”
“Rink-O-Mania, O.K.,” Mike did not have the slightest idea what Rink-O-Mania was. “What’s Rink-O-Mania?”
El’s eyes widened as she told Mike about her favourite place. “It is the most fun place in Lenora. They have skating and games,” she explained.
Mike did not like to skate. However, he was so happy to be with El and Will that he didn’t mind. “Sounds awesome,” But there was no way they would be alone the whole day. “Are your friends gonna meet us?”
Will snapped his head towards them so quickly that Mike wasn’t sure how he hadn’t broken his neck. “Friends? What friends?” he asked.
El slapped him with her flowers, a yellow bloom slipping onto the floor. “You know, Stacy and Angela,”
“Angela?” Will questioned. Eagerly, Mike thought. It was then that something dawned on Mike. Will liked one of El’s friends. He had the painting with him to give to Angela at Rink-O-Mania. The thought made Mike angry. Really, Mike, he chided himself. You know you can’t have him forever. You said so yourself, said there was no way you would spend the rest of your life in the basement playing D&D.
You’re right, Mike. Will is pulling away, and soon you may never be able to get him back. He will leave you. He’ll find someone else to lean on. He’s not yours…
“You’ll meet them, I promise,” El said excitedly. “Just not today. I want today to be about me and you,” Mike planted a kiss on her temple as they exited the doors.
./|||\.
Will had been looking forward to seeing Mike since he found out about Mike’s visit. He tossed and turned all the night before, filled to the brim with the excitement of seeing his old friend. Around three in the morning, he gave up on trying to sleep, getting a bowl of cereal from the kitchen and doodling Mike’s profile in the margins of his sketchbook. El had gotten up around five and told him to keep it down, sleep blurring her eyes as she told Will she could hear him pacing around his room. At six, he left the house to run, legs flying, as the sun rose. He got back and showered, ensuring his hair was impeccable, his outfit was acceptable, and his facial expression was amicable. Everything needed to be perfect.
And then Mike arrived, and Will was once again second best to El. Mike gave him a once-over, a half-hug, and a “Hello,”, and Will decided not to give Mike his present, the best painting Will had ever painted. He laughed at himself for thinking that Mike also came to California for him, but no, Will was just the cherry on top of the entire ice cream sundae that was El.
Mike doesn’t even know that El’s been lying, Will thought. Ever since moving to Lenora, El was the designated outcast. All the kids picked on her, especially Stacy and Angela. And El told Mike that they were her friends. Will knew that the truth would come out sooner or later, and Mike would not be happy.
The three of them were sitting in the back of Argyle’s pizza van on the way to El Rodeo, Mike and El cuddling and snickering as Will was squished up against the window. When they arrived, El clamoured to get out of the van first, climbing over Mike in her hurry. He responded by grabbing her waist as soon as he exited. “Mike, I know you are happy to see me, but you can not cling to me like this,” she said, extracting herself from his grip. “You can hold my hand though,” Mike obliged with an earnest grin.
Will had many mixed feelings about Mike and El’s relationship. On one hand, he was glad to see his sister so happy. She had gone through so much hardship and deserved it. On the other hand, however, Will was jealous. He and Mike had been thick as thieves until Mike started dating El. It didn’t help that Will was hopelessly attracted to Mike and had been since the sixth grade. But Mike will never see you that way, Will, He reminded himself. Shouldn’t it be enough to see him happy?
“How ‘ya doing, bud?” Jonathan sidled up next to Will as they entered El Rodeo, the lively chatter of the patrons spilling out into the parking lot.
“I’m fine,”
Jonathan gave him a look. “Well, if you say so,” and went to stand with Argyle at the ordering kiosk, who was having a very stressful moment trying to decide between two burritos.
After they had all finished (Argyle had gotten both burritos), the rowdy group piled back in the pizza van to drive to their house so Mike could drop off his shit.
Argyle opened the door while simultaneously pulling into the driveway. He and Jonathan disappeared into Jonathan's room, presumably to smoke. El grabbed Mike by the wrist, excitedly showing Mike around their house. “Where’s Joyce?” Will heard Mike ask.
“She’s in the living room doing her work. But she says we can’t interrupt her unless we are bleeding or on fire,” El responded. “Jonathan and Argyle are the ‘responsible adults’ when she is working,” El smirked as she formed air quotes around the older boys’ names.
“And, um, where do I drop my stuff? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure Joyce won’t let us sleep in the same room,”
Will entered the kitchen where they stood. “That would be my room,” he answered. “Follow me,”
Will led Mike through the hallway to his room. Pushing open the door, he gestured lamely to the illuminated scene. “Welcome to my humble abode,” Will mumbled.
Mike stepped into the room, gazing at everything hung on the walls, the unmade bed, the large easel in the corner. The most prominent was a large Boys Don’t Cry poster over Will’s bed. Mike pointed at it, having seen it in Jonathan’s room before. “Did you get that from Jon?”
Will looked where he was pointing. “Yeah,” he said. “He didn’t want it anymore so I took it. The song is pretty good.” He looked slightly embarrassed as if the poster was something Mike was not supposed to see.
“I haven’t heard it,” Mike said. “Do you have it on cassette?”
Will nodded wordlessly, stunned that Mike wanted to hear his favourite song. As he slid it into the player, Mike sat on Will’s bed. Will came and sat with Mike as the familiar jangly guitar intro started to play.
I would say I'm sorry if I thought that it would change your mind
But I know that this time
I have said too much
Been too unkind
I try to laugh about it
Cover it all up with lies
I try to laugh about it
Hiding the tears in my eyes
'Cause boys don't cry
Boys don't cry
Mike was pleasantly surprised with the type of song this was. He had expected Will to be the type to only listen to Beethoven and Bach, being a painter and all. He could hear Will humming the words under his breath, and Mike found comfort in the light vibrations Will emitted.
I would break down at your feet and beg forgiveness
Plead with you
But I know that it's too late
And now there's nothing I can do
So, I try to laugh about it
Cover it all up with lies
I try to laugh about it
Hiding the tears in my eyes
'Cause boys don't cry
Boys don't cry
Will felt oddly embarrassed about Mike hearing the song that provided a window into his heart. Does Mike think I’m weak? Will really felt this song after Mike and El got together and started to ditch him and the party.
I would tell you that I loved you
If I thought that you would stay
But I know that it's no use
That you've already gone away
Misjudged your limit
Pushed you too far
Took you for granted
Thought that you needed me more, more, more
Mike, finally listened to the lyrics instead of looking at Will. They felt oddly familiar, as if the song was talking about his many adventures.
Now I would do most anything to get you back by my side
But I just keep on laughing
Hiding the tears in my eyes
'Cause boys don't cry
Boys don't cry
Boys don't cry
Will side-eyed Mike, wondering if he realised that this was the way Will wished Mike felt about him. But no, Mike would not, could not, have those feelings that he abandoned Will while El was around.
The song finished in three harmonic chords. Will stood up to take the cassette out, but before he could reach it, Mike grabbed his hand.
“What?” Will asked.
“Is that your favourite song?”
“Yeah,”
“I like it,” Mike said with a smile. “It’s very - you.”
Mike grinned, oddly victorious at the sight of Will’s stifled smile. He thought he knew why this was Will’s favourite song; his abusive father, Lonnie, had instilled in him an avid belief that any amount of femininty was bad - had even called him slurs for crying. Mike empathasised with him, having his own experiences with an absent father.
The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur. After hurriedly greeting Joyce, taking a full tour of the house, and eating a lunch of potato-chip sandwiches, El rounded up everyone in the house to go to Rink-O-Mania.
Will would have rather eaten dirt than roller-skate, but he went anyway to make El happy. Will had only been once, (for his mom’s work party) but despised it all the same. Surprisingly, however, he was good at skating.
El was practically trembling with excitement as Rink-O-Mania came into view. “There it is!” she exclaimed, pointing it out to Argyle. Argyle pulled up to the curb and let them out.
“Hey, Will,” Jonathan called. “We’ll be back at six o’clock. Have fun, okay?”
“Okay,” Will repeated flatly. As soon as he entered the doors, he was slammed by the smell of fries and feet, the noisy environment surrounding him like a clammy hand. Mike and El ran ahead, leaving Will to pick his way through the skate-littered carpet in pursuit of the happy couple.
./|||\.
“So,” said Argyle. “Who’s the twink?” Jonathan stared at him.
“Who?”
“Y’know, the one with the glasses, fake shirt, and ugly-ass fit that seems way too attached to his boyfriend’s sister.”
“Mike?” Jonathan asked incredulously.
“Yeah, the twink,”
“Will and Mike aren’t together.”
“No way, man. Did you see the way Mark looked at Will?”
“Mike,” Jonathan corrected. “And yeah, I did, but I would feel that way too if I were seeing my best friend of yearsfor the first time in six months and he looked that different,”
“You never look at me that way, man,” Argyle was stoned.
“How much did you smoke?”
“Not sure.”