Work Text:
Apparently Eddie Munson talked Steve into having an actual birthday party again and let Corroded Coffin set up a show in the basement. Something about it having better soundproofing than the living room even though it’s a goddamn sweatbox despite the high end Harrington air-con working overdrive. Will is unwilling to imagine what it would have been without it. It already reminds him of when mom, Jonathan and Nancy burned The Mind Flayer out of his body in ‘84. It should logically have him at least on the edge of a panic attack, what with the memories of bad times, but in some weird twist of his subconscious, being too hot is almost comforting because he can physically tell he was free of the influence of the Upside Down. Funny how that works.
The room is packed, sweaty bodies bopping against each other, the set list peppered with songs that are softer than the band's usual heavy metal, probably as a crowd pleasing compromise, distortion turned down from its usual screech. Will knows this from Jonathan and Steve sneaking him and the rest of the Party to the band's first show back at The Hideout earlier in the summer.
When the opening chords of Should I Stay or Should I Go hit his ears, Will lets out an excited scream in the space of between the repeat of the riff which makes someone giggle into their microphone and he feels his tense body loosen up because he knows this one is for him. They already played their take on Weird Al version of I Love Rock ’n’ Roll for Dustin. The crowd had eventually realised they should chant “I Love Rocky Road” instead or Rock ’n’ Roll by the second chorus.
He jumps around feeling the music but especially the beat of the drums. They are the loudest in the small room despite the amps having been turned up to 11 according to Munson, whatever that means. He's pretty sure the knobs only go up to 10.
He lets his arms flail and he screams along to the lyrics, but especially the chorus. Obviously he knows every single one of the words and he's mildly annoyed when Jeff doesn't get the exact rhythm of the words quite right. He knows this song inside out, like the back of his hand. By the third verse he thinks about singing the Spanish background vocals instead, they're actually more fun than the main vocal. They're more messy and erratic and thus feel more real and less structured, or maybe that’s just how Spanish feels to him since he doesn’t actually speak it. He started learning in Lenora but he’s so far from fluent. Either way, the band hasn't bothered to learn them. But at least the rhythm section is immaculate, but Munson likes to improvise and put his own stank on the guitar.
When the song comes to an end, Munson takes over the microphone again. “Ok freaks, we're gonna need a fucking break, go get some fresh air or a drink or whatever you want, I know I need one of each.” When the crowd reacts with a disappointed groan in almost perfect, he cackles like he's doing an evil NPC in the middle of a campaign and adds: “Don't you worry, we'll be back! But not until we fucking feel like it. Now scram!”
The crowd groans but disperses. Will doesn’t feel like getting stuck in the stairs with everyone else so he hangs back. Mike asks him if he's gonna come up as he goes past but he just shrugs and lets his best friend head up with El and Dustin who is talking a mile a minute about the Weird Al song and how metal everything was. He's not sure where Max and Lucas are. They might have been upstairs making out this whole time and missed the Kate Bush cover dedicated to her.
“You ok there, baby Byers?” someone asks him. They're behind Will since he turned around to watch his friends climb the stairs and he's startled by being crept up on like that.
It's Eddie Munson. “Yeah, I'm fine,” he mumbles.
The Dungeon Master still makes him nervous. After all he doesn't know him but Eddie acts like he knows Will. Maybe it's the whole spring break thing but Will wasn't even there. And he wasn't there for any of the school year or Hellfire meetings before it. And if he's honest, he's still bitter about his friends joining a D&D club the second he was gone, after he spent all last summer begging them to play with him. He's kind of forgiven his friends but he's wary of Munson even though he's innocent and not the one who betrayed him like that.
But it's much easier to forgive his friends than a stranger. He's still a stranger to Will even though he's been a part of the extended part for months and they've played D&D together and he is a really good Dungeon Master, much better than Mike ever was. Much more imaginative and passionate. But Will isn't anywhere near as comfortable around him as the others. After all, he's known everyone else for a lifetime, even Steve Harrington has several years under his belt at this point.
“You coming up?” Munson asks, cocking his head to the side. By now the room has mostly cleared apart from him and the band and the stairs are no longer crowded. He doesn’t really have any excuse to stay in the sweaty basement. Someone’s cracked open the windows now that it’s quiet again, and it’s helping a bit, but it’s not a good place to hang out.
“Yeah ok,” he mutters and follows the metalhead upstairs.
🎈 🎉 🎈 🎉 🎈 🎉 🎈
Will doesn’t know how to act at a party. So instead of dancing or talking to people, he sits on the edge of the pool, sipping his one beer allowance assigned by Steve. He doesn't understand what the fuss is all about, it's pretty gross. But he keeps drinking it because what else is there to do?
Mike and El are dancing in the living room and he doesn't want to watch them slow dance, it's too much like the snow ball and he can almost feel the phantom discomfort of a suit and tie around his neck again. Lucas and Max are also dancing, though they are a lot less awkward about it. Last he saw Dustin, he was arguing with Jeff about how to cast fireball without killing the rest of the party. All theoretical, he hopes. He saw Jonathan and Argyle sneak off somewhere, probably to hotbox in the van or something. They were holding hands though, and he can't help but wonder if they have more in common than either of them had expected.
He watches the sunset change colours from pink to a darker orange. The more he sips on his beer, the less gross it tastes.
Someone sits next to him and he startles. “Sorry, didn't mean to scare you, Byers,” they say. There's a set of knobbly kneed legs partially covered by fraying cut off jeans dangling next to his, no shoes or socks, just a bit hairy toes not unlike a hobbit’s.
Will looks at his own feet. They're not hairy, and his leg hair is too light to be visible. He's been made to feel inadequate about his ‘lack’ of manly body hair, among his other deficiencies in that area.
He looks up and sees that his companion is Gareth from Hellfire Club, and Corroded Coffin. He's wearing a worn out band t-shirt, Iron Maiden it seems, and he's shed his usual cut off flannel, which makes sense because it's hot out here, and in there. His leg hair is more sparse but darker than Will's and it's spread on his arms too, and he doubts Gareth has been called a sissy or worse for his body hair situation. Actually, he doubts his companion gets bullied at all, since he's much tougher than Will anyway. Something about heavy metal and don't fuck with my attitude even though he's no taller than Will despite being two years older.
He's found himself admiring the older boy for his confidence, even though he doesn't really know him. They've played a few one shots together with Hellfire and Gareth the Great is a brave but not foolish dwarf fighter. Will used to play a cleric but he made a new character when he got back from California and now he's a half elf paladin called Wylym.
“Hey,” Gareth says, taking a drink of his own beer. He doesn't make a face like Will is sure he's been making every time he takes a sip of his. He feels the need to do the same, for looking manly enough reasons, but somehow it goes down the wrong hole and he coughs up instead of being a cool chill dude.
Gareth's free hand is on his back, rubbing circles. “You ok dude?” Will is sure he's red like spaghetti sauce from not just the embarrassment, but also the touch of ‘another man’. God, he feels pathetic.
“Yeah,” he sputters feebly.
The stereo inside starts playing Do You Really Wanna Hurt Me by Culture Club and he knows Steve is in charge of the stereo again. He tries to reclaim his composure and any cool points he might have access to and groans: “Jesus, this song sucks.”
Gareth chuckles, as if he knows exactly what Will is trying to do. “Could be worse though, Harrington was blasting that Karma Karma Karma whatever song earlier,” he says, patting Will's back gently like he's burping a baby. Will knows the mixtape from a few rides in the beemer last summer and knows that next song is an older David Bowie one, one that's also on one of the tapes Jonathan made him, so he knows it's not gonna suck forever. He wonders how Gareth feels about Bowie. He's not sure how he'd feel if he hates the Thin White Duke. If Will is honest, he doesn't even hate either Culture Club song. Sometimes he even taps his foot to them when they come up on the radio, but he knows he's not supposed to. It's too feminine, too queer, that's what they say.
Now he's stopped coughing, both boys just sit on the edge of the pool, kicking at the water, staring at their feet in awkward silence. Will holds on to his beer tightly, scared of taking another sip in case it goes down the wrong hole but also needing something to do. Eventually the song changes to Moonage Daydream and Gareth speaks up.
“Thank fuck Harrington’s taste isn’t completely ass.”
Will lets out a breath he had not realised he was holding in. Phew. “You like Bowie?”
“Who doesn’t like Bowie?” Gareth turns around to face him. “Sure the new stuff hasn’t been as good but fuck me Ziggy Stardust is a fucking classic.”
“You don't mind the...?" Will stutters, not finishing the sentence but the older boy seems to know what he’s talking about anyway.
“Oh, that? Well, it would be a bit hypocritical of me if I did,” he whispers. Will can’t believe he just heard what he thinks he heard and his jaw is on the floor.
“My uncle Steve was really into Bowie and he showed me interviews and gave me my own copy of the Rise and Fall when I was 10,” Gareth continues, before Will rudely interrupts him.
“Steve?”
“A different Steve! It’s a common name, you know!” the other boy huffs “They’re not even related, Harrington’s my cousin on the other side.”
Will is genuinely shocked. “You’re cousins?”
“Yeah, our moms are sisters,” Gareth laughs. After a moment he adds, very seriously: “This’s a small town, man. Practically fucking inbred.”
“ We’re not related, are we?” Will's pretty sure they're not but mom doesn't really talk about her folks and the less said about anything related to Lonnie, the better. The apple unfortunately did not fall far from the tree in his case. Will hopes he and Jonathan fall as far from it as possible and break the cycle but he sometimes lies awake at night worrying he will somehow grow up to be just like his dad, and he knows Jonathan worries about it even more.
“Nah, if we were, you would have been invited to one of Nana Pat’s Thanksgiving feasts. Even the Harringtons make an occasional appearance for her pie. That pie is a slice of heaven,” Gareth licks his lips.
Will's not sure why he's relieved. It would actually be nice to have more family. Like uncles or cousins or grandparents and not just for birthday money or Christmas present reasons. He knows those are things that extended family does because Mike loves to complain about how his grandmother knits ugly sweaters for him and the other one is ‘too stingy’ with the birthday cash. Problems Will can't relate to. He wouldn’t mind receiving an itchy hand-knitted Snoopy sweater. It sounds pretty nice actually.
“Sounds nice,” is all Will actually says. He leans back, his hands on the edge of the pool and kicks at the water that then sprays in the air in an arc. Gareth copies him and maybe his feet are bigger or something but whatever the reason is, the spray he makes is more impressive. Will’s not competitive though, so he doesn’t try to do a bigger one, he just hums along to the music from the house.
He adjusts his grip on the edge of the pool and he supposes Gareth does the same, because suddenly their finger tips are touching. And it’s not like the shock of static electricity, but not unlike it either. It's something else. There's a shiver up his spine and then down again. Will wonders if someone threw a toaster in the pool and his and Gareth's bodies are conduits for electricity. He's frozen in place but in the best way possible.
Gareth's fingers edge even closer until his hand is over Will's, and the fingers dig underneath his. Is he... trying to hold his sweating hand? Holy shit. Will pries his fingers off the tiles and the other boy's fingers really do wrap around them, squeezing gently. There’s a whole kaleidoscope of butterflies in the pit of his stomach. Fuck. Is this the feeling Mike keeps talking about with El? Will thinks he actually gets it now. It’s exhilarating.
Sure, Will has thought about kissing boys, and holding hands, and it’s been an interesting concept in theory but goddamn, actually doing anything like that has always felt like an impossible dream, something he cannot have, at least not until he gets the hell out of Hawkins. Maybe if he gets a scholarship to go to college in a big city. Something far away in the future, a million years away from now. But here he is, in Hawkins, in Steve Harrington’s backyard of all places and a boy he likes is holding his hand and there’s an implication he might want to do more? He wants to pinch himself because he must be dreaming. Though Gareth’s grip on his hands feel pretty damn real.
He braves a look at him. First the hands. Yup, the hands are holding. Then up at his face. Gareth is smiling shyly and his eyes shift quickly from Will’s eyes to down to his lips and back. He steals a glance at his lips in return. The other boy bites at his lower lip before giving it a quick lick. Will decides to trust his instincts, the ones that are screaming “Pucker up, buttercup! He is going to kiss you!” and closes his eyes, hoping it’s a sufficient sign of consent, that he wants to be kissed.
He feels Gareth move towards him. He’s not sure how he can tell since obviously he can’t see with his eyes closed, but maybe it’s the other boy’s breath on his face? Or the shift of pressure on his hand as he leans in? Something in the air? Who knows. All he knows he’s probably, hopefully, definitely maybe about to be kissed!
But just as their lips are about to touch, someone barges out of the sunroom door, the sliding door making a squeegee sound as it slides open with more force than it needs. “There you are Gareth, we.. Oh! Sorry!”
Will and Gareth spin their heads around in unison, their lower lips actually kind of brushing against each other just the tiniest bit in the rush of movement. Fuck.
It's Freak. Will has no idea what the guy’s actual government name is. He's just Freak, but not like Munson is The Freak. Will makes a note to himself to ask someone, hopefully Gareth if...
He sneaks a peek at the other boy's face and sees him glaring daggers at his friend. “What??” he spits out.
Freak backs up a few steps with his hands up defensively, bumping into the sliding door frame. “Sorry dude, I had no idea you were finally making moves at Byers, I'm not the one with psychic powers!”
Somehow Gareth’s eye daggers get more pointed and it makes Will want to giggle.
“I just came to tell you we're going back on in a bit, but I guess we can wait. Take your time, lovebirds,” Freak shifts and backs out of the door sliding it back shut in front of him and also closing the vertical blinds behind him.
Gareth turns back towards the water and buries his face in his hands. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he mutters into his palms. Will nudges him with his shoulder with brand new confidence. “Finally, huh?” he grins.
“Shut up,” Gareth mutters in response, still into his hands. “It's not been that long. Just since the first time you joined us for Hellfire,” he adds, putting his hands down to his bare knees, but his eyes still on his hairy little hobbit toes. Will realises that every other toe nail is painted a surprising subtle pale salmon pink while the other two on each foot are bare. It's cute.
“Oh?” Will wants to hear more.
“Yeah, I thought you were cute and stuff,” the other boy shrugs, not wanting to elaborate. Will supposes he doesn’t need to know more, but he wants to. Before he can ask again, Gareth changes the subject by asking shyly:
“Anyway, where were we when Freak walked in on us?”
Will smiles back at him coyly and says breathily: “I think you were about to finally kiss me.”
“Oh yeah,” Gareth grins, lifting his hand to wrap around the back of Will's neck and pulls him into his first kiss. And it’s magnificent.