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He felt stupid. He knew he was stupid. He didn't know what he was doing sitting here, home alone on a Friday night, sobbing on Nancy's tan shag carpet. He was such an idiot. And he didn't know why the hell he thought this would make him feel better, but here he was. He hadn't even done anything, he had planned to, sure, Mike was a man of action after all. But as soon as he crossed that threshold, the doorway from his previous life to whatever kind of life awaited him in Nancy's room, he realized he couldn't really ever turn back. Those thoughts had won out, worn him down. And he just kinda... collapsed on Nancy's floor. All his previous determination completely melted out of his body along with any energy he had stored up just for this occasion.
Nancy was living out of state now, going to her dream school pursuing her dream degree, which Mike was definitely not bitter about. So what if Nancy was the golden child? Mike had no problems being the second favorite- no, the third favorite, cause let's face it. Holly was definitely going to surpass him in, probably everything. Mike was nothing if not a bona fide mess. He was a senior in highschool, practically 18, and he had just about nothing to show for it. He wasn't failing any classes, but he was barely scraping by, even in the classes he used to love. He just couldn't pay attention anymore, thoughts running amok, not saving space for anything remotely useful in helping him actually graduate. He was a fucking mess. He really should've been more grateful that his parents were gone, if they'd been home and found him sobbing on Nancy's floor? He shuddered thinking about it, he really wasn't in the head space to come up with a convincing lie right now. And the truth? Well, he could never tell them.
He felt like he could live out the rest of his life on this shag carpet, laying here and not having to do or think about anything else. Fuck everything outside of this room, he could probably convince himself none of it mattered. He sighed knowing it wasn't true. Mike thought of his friends, and that calmed him more than anything. Not that he could tell even them about this. They wouldn't understand. Maybe Will would? He used to dress up a lot for DND, but... it still wasn't the same. Will wasn't into this. Not that Mike even really knew what this was.
"Fuck!" Mike groaned, bringing his palms to his eyes and pressing, hard. Hard enough that he saw fireworks in his vision, sometimes that was the only way to get his mind to shut the fuck up. He just needed to clear his mind. He wished he would've gone out with his friends tonight, but instead he'd decided to lie through his own damn teeth and fake sick. All so he could enact this stupid, perverted plan, and here he was, completely unable to pull it off.
The rest of the Party was at a house party right now, something or other for New Years. Mike had stupidly thought he could reinvent himself with the New Year, and maybe, somehow, he'd be happier for it. What a dumb fucking idea. They were all probably drinking, playing beer pong or, like, drunk twister or whatever was getting them absolutely plastered right about now. Mike hoped they were having fun at least, sometimes Troy and his goonies went to those parties too. It was never fun when those assholes were looming around.
Mike wished if he couldn't have been at least normal, then he could've been brave. Brave enough to go to the party, brave enough to face his friends, brave enough to try the things he desperately wished would eventually fade from his mind. Brave enough to tell the truth, hell, brave enough to even face it. But Mike wasn't brave. He was a dumb loser who couldn't stop thinking about his dumb sister's dumb makeup box.
Max had been bored out of her mind for the last hour, Lucas and Will were embroiled in some stupid debate, and being annoyingly secretive about it. And Dustin and El were busy making 'unlikely friendships' as the result of a dare brought on by Will and Lucas. Max knew that Dustin and El were considered the weirder Party members, and she understood why, but she didn't understand why they felt like they had to do anything about it. Everybody else in the Party had some of their own friends, separate from Party matters, but El. Dustin and Mike had their own nerdy group of DND friends, Max hung out sometimes with the skater kids, Lucas had basketball friends, and for some totally insane reason, Will was kinda popular- not that he ever admitted to it. He was in three clubs, had a ton of artsy friends and even, like, random people came up to Will and easily made friends with him. Which, if you asked Max, felt super suspicious considering how everyone used to treat Will. It was like everybody's memory of Will from before California was wiped. The only people who still called him zombie boy were Troy and his idiot friends. Max actually thought it was pretty lucky, she knew he was grateful for the mostly clean slate, and nobody had wanted to look that particular gift horse in the mouth, so the Party dutifully ignored it.
So, everyone was pretty happy, except El. She desperately wanted to be 'normal' and to fit in with the rest of the high schoolers, she just didn't know how. So Lucas and Will came up with this dare to get her started in the right direction, they included Dustin too because he had trouble talking to anybody that wasn't a party member or a DND nerd. People thought he was a little too mean or intense. But really he was just like Eddie, all hard on the outside, but lovable and loyal to a fault on the inside.
It looked like everybody else was having fun, but she wasn't feeling particularly sociable tonight, so, there she was, wandering around this party, alone, which was was normally all fine and dandy, but tonight Max was really fucking bored. And she did not take kindly to boredom.
Her sights on Lucas, the redhead nearly stomped through the living room which had been converted into a lackluster dance floor. Will was talking to him, well, from across the room it looked more like Will was yelling at him, which Will would never reasonably do. He just talked animatedly, impassioned sentences punctuated with emotional hand movements. Max loved Will, she loved to see his confidence grow with every year Vecna was out of their lives. But right now she needed to interrupt. The closer she got to the pair, the quieter Will got, clocking Max's movements immediately and eyeing her almost suspiciously. She didn't feel like being angry about it though, she just wanted to go.
"Hey," Lucas greeted as she made it into their little bubble at the far end of the crowded room. He grinned at her brilliantly, like he always did. Max was so in love with him, not that she'd tell him that (in front of other people at least). But they were supposed to be broken up right now, she couldn't remember why, it never mattered anyways. They belonged to each other. She grinned back and pecked him on the cheek, stealing his drink out of his hand while he was distracted. She downed it in one gulp.
"Dude," Lucas frowned. Will snickered to her right, Max had a feeling he was probably the most drunk out of all the Party right now. That didn't usually happen, considering he pretty much claimed the role of DD most nights, but tonight was different. Before the party he'd stated that someone else could be the DD because he was 'gonna get drunk as hell and screw the consequences'. The whole Party, with the exception of Mike who'd stayed home sick, had erupted into a fit of laughter at that. Will had been an innocent kid, but he wasn't anymore. Sure he was responsible, but boy did he love to cause mischief. And he loved the rare moment that he could make his friends laugh. The whole Party had changed as a result of Vecna, but Will had really grown from it. Max admired him for that, Lord knows she hadn't grown from it.
"I'm gonna head out," she stated, "you still got them Sinclair?" He was the designated driver tonight, and considering he'd been sipping that one cup of lukewarm beer all night -until Max had snuck it away- he was still good to wrangle the rest of the Party. But really only Will had been drinking enough to be concerned about anyways.
Lucas nodded immediately but tilted his head, his gaze questioning, "how're you gonna get home?"
Honestly, Max hadn't thought that far ahead. "Ehhh," Lucas had driven them all in his mom's car and Max lived too far away to walk, "I'll just head to Wheeler's." Lucas looked surprised. Will actually snorted at that.
"I doubt Mike's in any shape to drive you if he stayed home from," Will looked around the room, giggling to himself, "this". Max wondered if he'd realized his hand was moving around inelegantly.
"Psh, I'll just sleep in his basement then, it's not like he's gonna refuse me." Max crossed her arms daring the pair to object, but they knew she was right. Mike and Max fought constantly, but their friendship had really changed, this past year especially. They behaved like siblings honestly, and Max quietly thought that he was the brother she'd always hoped Billy would be, but she would quite literally die before ever admitting that. Max liked hanging out with Mike, even though they bickered like no one else. The rest of the Party could see that the two were weirdly good friends now, none of them had commented on it, not wanting to risk the ire of either Mike or Max. Except for Will, Will was the only person in the Party who actively made fun of them for it, or rather, he wasn't really trying to make fun of them, he was just telling the truth. He thought their unlikely friendship was adorable, a word he used often solely because Mike and Max equally despised it.
"All right, well how 'bout I pick you up tomorrow morning. We can go get breakfast, sans Mike." Lucas waggled his eyebrows, he had clearly forgotten they were broken up.
Max broke out into a smile and chuckled, "sure thing hot stuff, pick me up at nine." Max threw a wink over to Will, signalling her goodbye, and spun around to leave. Dustin and El were embroiled in some group game, not wanting to interrupt, she found her jacket and walked out the front door. Mike's house wasn't far from here, just a couple blocks away. It really was a shame he was sick, the Party could've all walked back to his to pass out afterwards, no DD needed. Maybe she'd suggest it the next time the captain of the basketball team hosted a party.
Mike wasn't crying anymore, he didn't think he'd had any more tears left, but he still couldn't move from his spot on Nancy's floor. He felt pathetic, unable to move, knees to his chest like a child. He sighed and dropped his forehead to the tops of his knees. He thought he heard a faint knock downstairs, but that was silly, no one would be knocking right now, so he just ignored it.
Clink
That one he definitely couldn't ignore.
Clink
His anxiety spiked, wondering who the heck was throwing rocks at the window, debating whether or not to feign sleep.
Clunk
Okay, that one sounded bigger. He sighed, maneuvering himself off the floor and pushing a wayward strand of hair out of his eyes. He unlatched the window and opened, only to see a mess of bright copper hair getting ready to throw another rock. She dropped it before pelting it directly at Mike's face. Mike felt his own eyebrows raising, he was surprised to see Max here. True, they were proper friends now, but he was still constantly surprised to find that Max actually liked him, and even more surprised to find that he liked her back.
"What the hell are you doing here?" He asked with no bite, he didn't have the energy to fight.
Max looked unimpressed, "nice to see you too Wheeler. The party was boring."
"You couldn't just get a ride back with Lucas?"
"Nah everyone was having fun, I didn't wanna end their night early..." Max hugged herself and fought a shiver, "can you just let me in Wheeler? I'm freezing my ass off out here."
Mike didn't reply, he didn't need to, just shut the window and walked downstairs, letting Max in through the basement door, as was customary for Party members, a little quirk leftover from their days fighting otherworldly creatures and mad time wizards. The thought brought him little joy.
"Dude..." Max was looking at Mike, she looked... concerned, which was never good, especially on Max. "Are you okay Mike?" Her voice was gentle.
"No." He paused, unsure how much he could say without breaking down again, "I told you guys, I'm sick."
"You don't look sick Mike... you look sad." She had her own eyebrows raised, not used to seeing Mike look like this much of a mess. Mike didn't need a mirror to know he looked like shit. His eyes went all red and puffy when he cried, he hadn't really eaten all day and he hasn't been sleeping lately. So well, it wasn't really a lie when he said he was sick. He needed a good nights sleep and a memory wipe or something, oh and maybe some food.
His stomach growled at the thought, but Mike didn't have the energy to be embarrassed. He shrugged in reply to Max, he didn't want to talk to anyone right now, let alone Max Mayfield.
Thankfully, Max didn't push, she took his growling stomach as ample reply.
Max took the boy's hand and led him up to the kitchen, it was strange. They rarely ever did stuff like this. Hang out alone, casually hold hands. Mike's heart clenched, he enjoyed having Max's hand in his. It didn't feel like the same as when he used to hold El's hand, or when Will sometimes grabbed his hand to lead him somewhere. That was always his favorite, when Will was confident enough to actually take Mike's hand, it never lasted very long though, and Mike wasn't brave enough to do the same with him, not yet at least. When Max held his hand, it felt like a promise of friendship, it felt like she was saying, I'm here and I'm not going anywhere. It felt like how he imagined it felt when Max and El held hands. Their bond was unmistakable, they were best friends- and girls, they could be close and hold hands and hug and kiss each other on the cheek and no one would look twice at them.
Mike felt a little sick, the jealously creeping up on him unbidden. He pushed the thoughts out of his mind, focusing on why they were in the kitchen. Max had plopped him into one of the stools next to the kitchen island. It felt weird to be in his own kitchen with Max, the quiet hum of the heater and the sounds of Max raiding the fridge infiltrated the previously stale environment of his empty house.
"I don't think I've ever seen you this quiet." Max stated, it didn't sound like she needed a response. He knew he was being weird but he couldn't just start talking without risking spilling his guts, and he did not want to do this tonight, or at all really. Max had out four pieces of bread and was slathering mayo on each side. The sour smell of mayo grounded Mike, making his insides twist.
"I don't like mayo." He said a little bitterly, cringing at his own tone.
Thankfully Max ignored the attitude, which was completely unusual for her. "I promise, these are gonna be the best grilled cheese sandwiches you've ever had." She said softly, and then with a little more passion, "you're gonna be begging me to make more Wheeler."
"Psh, okay..." He grinned, "I highly doubt that Mayfield, but I will try one. On the grounds of science."
"Sure, sure, science and whatever," rolling her eyes fondly, if not a little annoyed.
Mike seemed to lose a little of his post breakdown funk, he did feel better having someone here to talk to, even if it was Max Mayfield, even if he was secretly thrilled that it was Max Mayfield. He got some sodas from the fridge, setting them down on the kitchen island, and was perfectly content to watch Max take slices from every kind of cheese that was in the Wheeler's fridge, they had mozzarella, cheddar, and a third fancy cheese that he'd never tried, it was reserved for his mom.
Despite the thickening smell of crispy, buttery bread wafting through the air, Mike didn't realize any time had passed. He had zoned out watching Max work until the clattering sound of a plate on the granite in front of him broke him from his trance. There was a perfectly golden brown, crispy grilled cheese sandwich in front of him. He looked up to see Max's toothy grin, "voila, Wheeler, eat up."
Maybe it was just because he was starving, but Max's grilled cheese was delicious, he could taste the mayo, but it wasn't like how mayo normally tasted, it was good. It worked impossibly with three cheeses, which he'd also been quietly skeptical of. Even Mike couldn't deny the skater the pleasure of knowing how right she'd been, not this time.
"Max... this is awesome."
She laughed through a greasy bite of sandwich, "I told you Wheeler, my grilled cheese skills are unparalleled".
"Best grilled cheese I've ever had," Mike agreed, "but if you tell anyone I said that I will deny it forever and also never forgive you," he added, narrowing his eyes not unkindly.
"Dude, if you tell anyone that I made you one of my sacred sandwiches, I'll literally put you in the grave."
Mike guffawed, she looked completely serious and he learned years ago to never doubt Maxine Mayfield, but even so, he found himself unable to keep from laughing. Pretty soon they were both on the ground, sandwiches half abandoned, laughing until their stomachs hurt. Nobody could fault them for this, Max was still tipsy and Mike was still a little delirious, it was a fun combo, truly.
When they'd both finished their sandwiches Mike put the plates in the dishwasher and hand washed the pans. He didn't mind, it gave him something to focus on and Max had cooked after all. He could practically hear her thinking from where she was sitting, most certainly watching him curiously, it set him on edge.
He was about to ask if she wanted a ride home but Max must've known he'd try to get her to leave because she interrupted as soon as Mike's mouth opened.
"I have an idea." She walked over to the Wheeler's liquor cabinet, opening the intricately carved wooden doors, a beautiful cabinet passed on from Mike's great grandmother. In one hand she held a nice red wine, not that Mike would know what nice alcohol was, and in the other, rum. Mike was about to protest but something stopped him. Maybe it was how damn mischievous Max looked, she was unburdened, holding up his parent's choice drinks, maybe it was his own subconscious, screaming at him that maybe, just for tonight, he could forget about all the bullshit, about how crazy he felt sitting on Nancy's shag carpet, about how grateful he was that his plan didn't come to fruition, about how disappointed he felt that it hadn't.
He tipped his head towards the rum, he didn't care if his dad was upset with him, but if his mom found out they'd drank her nice wine? He didn't even want to think about it. If they were gonna get drunk tonight, the rum would suit them better anyways. He rummaged about for a couple of cokes and filled some glasses with ice.
Max poured rum in each glass generously and then took a swig from the bottle itself, "for good luck," she explained with a mischievous grin. She hadn't gotten drunk at the party, only consumed enough alcohol to take the edge off. She hadn't wanted to drink much earlier, but now she felt the pair needed to get drunk tonight, really needed it.
Mike grinned in obvious agreement, he accepted the bottle that had been pushed towards him and took a good luck swig before splitting a bottle of coke between the two glasses.
Max was on the ground cackling, she couldn't remember what about, but it didn't matter, Mike was on the ground right next to her, gasping for air, tears streaming down his face, he looked happy in this moment, and that was all that mattered. Max was a sentimental drunk, which was a highly guarded secret. Not even Lucas knew this, though Max was sure he had his suspicions. El too, she could be very perceptive, but neither of them ever brought it up, and Max was grateful.
"What's your fav-vorite color?" Mike spoke, stumbling over the words a bit. They had just finished their glasses and were feeling good, better than either of them had felt all day. Max absently thought they should go down and get refills, they had come upstairs earlier to get some game that Mike had in his room, but they got distracted by- well Max didn't know, she couldn't think straight. But they'd gotten distracted and forgotten their original mission. And now they needed more alcohol-
"Maaaaxxxx," Mike practically wined, waving a hand in front of her face, the look on his was so innocent, like a little kid being ignored by his best friend. The thought sent Max spiraling again as she barked out another round of laughter. Mike joined in not long after, and it wasn't until they were laying there, totally exhausted from the laughing fits, that she remembered to answer his question.
"Red." She said pointedly, "it's the best color." They were both flat on their backs, resting on Mike's short, tan carpet. Their heads had landed close to each other, but Mike had propped his legs up on his bed and Max's were folded facing the door on the opposite wall. At some point, Mike had gotten a pillow from his bed and pushed it under both their heads, sharing a pillow like this felt intimate. This kind of intimacy was new for the pair, but it wasn't unwelcome. Max really liked Mike, sometimes she imagined that in another universe they had grown up together or that maybe they were kin bound by some string, always meant to find each other again, platonically of course. She desperately hoped that he felt the same way, and kinda suspected that he did, but knew they were both too proud to ever bring it up. They were already really good friends, maybe even some fucked up kind of family. Max craved family, she didn't have a lot of it. The thought made her feel kinda pathetic but she pushed it all away, ignoring the doubting voices.
"Why?" Mike asked.
"Hm?" She hummed, startled out of her thoughts, "...oh, I dunno... It's- it's bold. Red stands out, it's there, and it's not gonna apologize for it. Red isn't afraid. I wish I could be like red."
Mike's eyebrows went up in surprise, "What, Max? You are red, you're literally red. You're the most red person, like, ever."
"It doesn't feel like it." She was surprised at her own admission, normally she wouldn't let herself act like this drunk, she knew she was in dangerous sentimental territory, but she couldn't help it. Something about Mike tonight made her let her guard down, like if she was honest then he would be honest too. It was stupid, but even if he wasn't honest, she wanted to tell him things about her. Things that scared her. She felt like he'd understand. They were cut from the same cloth after all, she knew he'd understand.
"Yeah, I get it," she turned towards him with a questioning gaze, which he returned with an eye roll. "I just... people think that I'm like this stable, like, presence. That I am who I am, and that I know who I am. You know? Everybody has their expectations of me and it makes me feel..."
"Trapped." Max finished for him.
"Yeah, like I'm trapped in this role that I didn't even want to play in the first fucking place." Max noted the tears in his eyes and wondered if they might be talking about something else.
"Same," she said lamely, but this seemed to perk Mike up, like he wasn't expecting her to understand. She gave him a small smile, which was promptly returned. "What's your fave color?"
His face seemed to heat up a bit, she couldn't understand why he'd be embarrassed by that question.
Mike seemed to mull it over for a bit before answering a short, simple, "purple".
"Really? I thought it'd be blue or like- orange."
"It's been purple for as long as I can remember." He admitted softly.
"Why?"
"It's a good color..." Mike obviously hadn't thought about it that much, Max didn't push either, it was a pretty good color.
Max looked around his room, noting the obvious lack of what was supposedly his favorite color, "dude, you don't have anything that's purple."
"No, I couldn't."
Max screwed up her face in confusion, "why?"
"Purple's a girl color, Max," he sounded hurt. Both by what he was saying and by the very idea that Max had to ask.
She hadn't thought about that before, but she guessed it was, pink and purple were pretty girly. She knew she had her own problems with how she'd been pushed into pink and purple boxes her whole life and wondered if that's why she didn't have any pink or purple in her room either.
Max struggled to find anything to say to that. "It's just a color..." she finally settled with, "and it's your room, you should be able to put some purple in it if you want."
"I do want to," Mike was concentrating on Max's face, "other people don't want me to." It felt like he was willing her to understand something important, but her brain was all fuzzy and they were just talking about colors.
"Dude, I don't think anyone would care if you had a purple poster or something silly on your wall." She waved her hands around motioning to the poignant wall space that could probably -definitely- use a splash of purple.
Mike slumped his head down into the pillow, he worried his lower lip, deep in thought. Max couldn't tell why he seemed... unsettled? Maybe upset? She wasn't sober enough to tell Mike's minute moods apart. She gave up trying to understand and decided to pivot, asking what she thought was probably the tamest question she could've come up with in all of three seconds. "Why were you in Nancy's room?"
Mike's head swiveled, his wide eyes locked on Max's. "What?" He managed to squeak out.
"Earlier. When I got here, I knocked on the door but nobody answered. And I went to your window but it was dark, so I thought you must not be home, but Nancy's light was on, and, well, I know she's managed to escape Hawkins pretty successfully sooooo..."
It was silent for more than a few moments. Max had almost forgot she'd even asked before Mike was standing up, "can I show you something?" He extended a hand out to Max, he must've gone though a quick mental battle because he looked resigned, a little sad, and more than a little scared. It looked like he wanted to back out of... well, whatever it was they were going to do. She accepted his hand before he got the chance. Reminiscent of earlier in the day, Mike held Max's hand, leading her out of his room and into Nancy's. It felt almost like an invasion of privacy, she was sure that if she went snooping she'd probably find some weapons stashed (out of reach of Holly, of course). It was hard to not go looking into Nancy's stuff, she was such an enigma, and a total bad ass. Max admired her, enough to at least try to contain herself and fold her hands under her arms just so she wouldn't snoop.
Plus, right now something much more interesting than Nancy's stuff was happening, Mike was pacing in front of Nancy's dresser, his arms folded underneath him just like Max's were, it was as if he was trying to stop himself from touching Nancy's stuff too. But what...? She was about to ask if he was okay when he finally and abruptly stopped, standing anxiously in front of Nancy's vanity, the mirror reflecting just enough for Max to see that his hands were shaking ever so slightly. He reached down and opened a drawer, pulling out what looked like a makeup box. The needlepoint design housed tiny pink and blue flowers connected by willowy sage green stems, it was too delicate for Max's style, but she couldn't deny how pretty it was. Mike tossed it onto the floor as if he didn't care that Nancy's makeup got messed up, or... Was there makeup in there? Max had assumed so, but then again, Nancy was good with hiding spots. What if there was a grenade or a gun or something awesome in there? And Mike just tossed it on the floor?
"Dude, why the heck would you just throw it like that? That's Nancy's stuff, you don't know what's in there. It could explode!"
Mike looked a little shocked, raising his eyebrows a hair. "It's not gonna explode, Max." He unlocked the gold latch and threw the top open. It was just makeup, lots of makeup.
"Oh." Max was more than a little disappointed, "I thought you were gonna show me something cool," Max looked up at her friend expecting him to chuckle or something, what she found was completely unexpected and something Max didn't feel at all equipped for. Mike's face had fallen, the anxiety he had presented earlier was replaced entirely with sadness, disappointment, maybe a little disgust. She couldn't place why. Instead of asking she just walked up to Mike and pressed him into a light hug, squeezing harder when he put his head into her neck and began to cry. She'd never seen him cry before.
They stood like that for a while, Max wasn't really sure how long it'd been, but her arms were hurting, so she guessed it was a while.
Only when he pulled away did she let go of him, giving him one final squeeze. "Mike, what's wrong?"
Mike lowered himself to the floor, sitting with his back against the bed frame and his knees to his chest. "I'm so stupid, Max," he said, his voice breaking. "I don't know what's wrong with me." His arms flailed out in front of him and he looked towards the ceiling, as if questioning some unknown deity.
"Hey, there's nothing wrong with you," she faltered, "I mean not fundamentally, you are an asshole sometimes but like, that's just being human I think. I'm an asshole too, that's why we're such good friends." She tried for levity, but Mike didn't- couldn't even look at her. "Mike, I can't help you if I don't know what's wrong."
He gave her a flat look, "I don't think... I can't talk about it." He paused for a moment, studying Max's face. "Sorry Max, I didn't mean to ruin the night."
"Hey, I'm still having fun. You're crazy if you don't think I get something out of watching you have a mysterious breakdown." She playfully shoved her shoulder against his.
Max was ecstatic to hear Mike's low, wet chuckle, and so she did what she normally did, plowed ahead. "Hey, Wheeler, I got an idea."
Mike turned his head to face her once again, a small smile playing on his lips. "What're you up to, Mayfield?"
Max waggled her eyebrows, "I'm gonna make us some more drinks and then we're gonna put your sister's makeup to good use." Max was entirely confused and entranced by whatever was going on with Wheeler, and if she understood just one thing, it had to do with Nancy's stupidly, delicately beautiful makeup bag. Sue her but she was gonna find out what was happening if it killed her.
Max had been gone for a few minutes by now, leaving Mike to think about the consequences of his actions in a tragically self-pitying silence. He had brought out the makeup box and he'd planted the idea in Max's head and now he had to live with it. He didn't know if Max meant they were going to use the makeup on them or... he felt stupid, what else could she mean? He shouldn't have ever brought the makeup box out. He could lose Max. He didn't want to lose her.
But if he was being honest, he wasn't as scared as he was earlier. He didn't think Max suggested it because she suspected anything, she probably just thought it would be funny. Which meant that Mike would get to do this without any implications or questions or disgusted looks or... He didn't know if he could hide this desire from Max for much longer, but he would goddamn try. And he would get to try the thing that's been driving him crazy for, God, he didn't even know how long. Months. Years probably. And he just knew he couldn't wait any longer. If he could get away with this, he goddamn well had to try.
Max came back with full drinks as promised. She was even carrying two shots, a feat for anyone on a good day but entirely impressive for the state Max was currently in. They had sobered a little too much with Mike's breakdown, and Mike quietly thanked Max for bringing the extra shots, if this was going to work, he needed it. It looked like Max agreed, because as soon as she shoved a shot in Mike's hand, she downed her own. Mike followed not far after, grimacing at the burn sliding down his throat. He'd gotten everything set up when Max was gone, there was a fluffy blanket on the floor, Nancy's two pillows, one of Will's old hardcover drawing notebooks to put drinks on, and a radio. He'd flipped to the pop station, knowing that Max liked it (it was secretly his favorite station anyways), Madonna blared in the background and he tried not to sing along.
Max was singing along though, and maybe it was the shot coursing it's way through Mike's system but he thought maybe she wouldn't mind if he sang along with her. Max honest to god giggled when Mike started singing, the sound made his blood run cold and he almost stopped. But Max was grinning, her eyes shining, she looked happy. And suddenly he just couldn't stop, not when Max looked like this.
Some boys try, and some boys lie
But I don't let them play (no way)
Only boys that save their pennies
Make my rainy day
'Cause we are living in a material world
And I am a material girl
You know that we are living in a material world
And I am a material girl
"Wheeler! You like Madonna?" She got out, almost out of breath.
"Yeah, well, she's a star for a reason right? Her stuff is catchy," he aimed for nonchalant.
"Dude, I am so glad you do. I thought you liked, like Black Sabbath or New Order or, well I don't even know."
"I do like them," he said almost petulantly, like a child defending himself from his older sister, "but I like Madonna too, I guess."
Max gave him a dubious look, but she was still smiling. "Good. Literally nobody else in the Party likes pop music, well Lucas likes it," Mike snapped his head up at that, he'd never heard Lucas listening to anything Madonna-adjacent, "but his taste isn't nuanced, he likes anything. So that means that we can bond over pop music and being assholes." She'd said it so matter-of-factly that Mike couldn't help but laugh.
"And now, makeup too," Mike surprised himself by saying this, he didn't mean to, but he supposed he was getting a little antsy with it just sitting there.
Max giggled again, clearly agreeing, and she dumped out the whole box in the space between them. They were facing each other, far enough away that there was space, but close enough to reach over and slather each other's faces in goo and powder.
Mike did Max's makeup first, with her help of course. She showed him whatever everything was and what it was for, choosing her colors and setting them aside in the process. He did her eye shadow first, using the brush Max had shoved towards him. She'd chosen a burnt orange, it was a pretty color, almost matching her hair but a few shades off. He swirled the brush through the powder, a little too much it turned out. As soon as the brush connected with her skin, powder fell, smattering her cheek with orange. "Oh."
"It's okay, we'll clean it up later." Max said, her eyes remained closed, a gentle, knowing smile playing on her lips. Max was too perceptive.
Mike steeled himself and continued, applying the powder to her lid, switching to the other one when too much was happening on the first. Eventually he'd gotten them pretty evenly matched but it didn't really look right, "I don't know what I'm doing, Max," he huffed.
"It's okay, I'm not that good either, we can practice together."
Her eyelids were very orange, the color stopping in a garish way just under her eyebrows, little slivers of visible skin acting as a barrier between eye shadow and eyebrow. Mike had no idea it would be this hard.
Max was swiping some makeup remover on her cheeks and under her eyes, "don't worry, I usually have to do this myself too. I don't have any of the good makeup so there's a lot of fallout. But I don't really care, I don't wear it that often anyways." That was true, El wore makeup more often than Max did at this point, Mike had wondered who taught her, he guessed a combination of Max and Joyce. What he didn't know is that Nancy was more than ecstatic when El asked her to do her makeup, they had done it with this exact same tote, sitting up on Nancy's bed, and singing along to Nancy's Blondie tape.
Max handed him the eyelash curler and the mascara, which he eyed dubiously. "Okay, well, maybe I can curl your lashes first and show you how to do it, okay?" Mike nodded enthusiastically, picking up his drink quickly and taking a big swig to drown out the noise in his head. He had barely even noticed when Max snuck a lighter out of her jean pocket and held the hot flame up, licking the metal sides of the curler. He didn't say anything, but she caught his confused head tilt nonetheless, "It's like curling your hair, heat helps."
She waited until he was still and took his face in her hands. "Close your eyes Wheeler, don't move." He did as told, leaning forward into her grip and relaxing as much as he could. "You don't want to put too much pressure on it, they'll curl at an angle if you do it too hard, so you kinda like, press and let go and press and let go." She finished with one eye, and he could feel the presence of the warmed metal near his other eye. When she was done she handed him Nancy's hand mirror.
Mike didn't think he looked too different, it was very subtle, but you could see more of his eyelashes. They looked longer, prettier, like this. He loved it. The thought made his stomach do flips. He felt like he was going to throw up, but he couldn't stop grinning. "Cool," he said lamely, through a smile he couldn't control, emotion already leaking out of one word. His mouth closed around a smile, refusing to say more.
Max didn't seem to notice, she was shoving the curler in his hand. "Be careful with this Wheeler, I don't want to lose an eye."
Mike accepted the curler, hands shaking slightly. Holding the flame back up to the curler just as Max had done, but not for too long. His hands were shaking, he willed them to stop, really not wanting to poke out Mayfield's eye or worse, burn her cornea, she'd kill him. Fortunately he was able to still his hands to do this, and curled Max's eyelashes. He thought he did a pretty good job, even though he clamped down on Max's eyelid (one time!), which earned him a resolute smack to the shoulder. He giggled through it, a bubbling sorry bursting out through his laugh. Max laughed in kind, though he knew she wouldn't be so forgiving if he did it again. Her eyelashes looked good, longer and prettier just like his. He was almost entranced by her eyes when she shoved the mascara into his hands. He looked down at it, he could do this. Max trusted him enough at this point to let him figure it out, save a few pointers.
"Again, don't poke my eyes out. Try not to go too close to my eyelid, you don't want to get mascara on the eye shadow, it's hard to get off. And don't go too hard in one section, make it even, cause it will clump and if it clumps, I'm not letting you get anywhere near me with a safety pin."
He had no idea what that meant, but he nodded anyways. Max kept her eyes open this time, tilting her head into the shared space, allowing Mike to grip her chin. He carefully applied the mascara, the first eye looked good. There were some clumps, and a few black dots littering her eyelid, but it wasn't very noticeable when he backed up. The second try though, he smeared enough mascara onto her upper eyelid for it to be very noticeable, the black streak stark against the packed orange shadow. And there were more clumps this round, he even smeared some underneath her eye while doing her bottom lashes. He grimaced looking at the finished product.
He didn't realize Max had opened her eyes, she was staring out him, "hey, it's okay. It just takes practice I promise. Come on," she stood up and took his hand, "you can watch me clean it up." His eyes widened, "I'm not taking it off," she amended quickly, obviously noticing the alarm on his face, "just cleaning it up." They went to the vanity mirror, Max had snagged Nancy's makeup remover, some cotton balls, and a black smudged safety pin that had previously sat neatly stashed in the makeup box.
First she took a cotton ball lightly soaked in remover and swiped it under each eye, careful to only touch the skin and not the lashes. She'd managed to get all the mascara fall pretty quickly, and then she moved on to her eyelid, attacking just the single black streak that pulled focus. She scrubbed at it, getting it off but leaving the skin bare of any product. Mike moved to go get the eye shadow, catching Max smiling as he turned. She left the black dots scattering her other eye, they weren't important. Mike brought the brush, this time lightly packed with shadow, to her newly dried eyelid, and applied with a back and forth motion, filling in the empty space. This was fun, Mike was having fun. He felt lighter than he'd felt in weeks and he didn't even have any makeup on. It was just nice to get to do something with makeup. He'd been wanting to learn for- well probably since he was a kid and Nancy caught him trying to put on her lipstick. She had yanked it from him, not with disgust, but with fear that his 8 year old hands would break her favorite lip gloss. But Mike had never caught on to the difference.
"Good, Mike, it looks good." She interrupted his reverie, "now blush. Not too much or you'll make me look like a clown."
They headed back to their designated spots, blush in Mike's hands, he swirled the brush against the palette once, not knowing how much color he actually got but not wanting to do too much. He swiped the brush against her cheekbone, the rose standing out from the rest of her face, and did the same thing with her other cheek. She didn't look like a clown, she looked sun kissed. It was pretty.
His lips had parted, forming a small 'o', Max must've caught it, giggling while snatching the blush out of his hands. She made the same motions with the brush that he had just done, and swiped the color against Mike's cheeks. He reeled back feeling the brush against his skin, not quite expecting it. Max stilled with the motion, but Mike shook his head and leaned back into the space. Max resumed with the blush, swirling color against each cheek. Mike was scared to look, but his friend held up the hand mirror anyways. Mike saw his own rosy cheeks and his pretty eyelashes. It didn't even really look like he was wearing makeup, he looked sun kissed just like Max, like how they'd looked after a day at the quarry or how he'd knew his face flushed after realizing he'd been looking at Will a little too long. Normally, he was embarrassed at the redness in his face, his cheeks, the flush giving something away, airing something out that no one was meant to see. But this, he liked this. He looked pretty.
He shoved the hand mirror away, knowing he'd cry if he had to look at himself any more, and searched for Max's chosen lipstick instead. It was a bright, vivacious red, full of color, bold and knowing in a way Mike had never known lipstick to be. He swiped is across Max's lips quickly, but carefully. She had said that confidence was key with lipstick. The lipstick can sense how confident you are, if you're self conscious, it's not gonna look good.
Mike didn't know how true that was but he trusted her enough to listen to her anyways. So he swiped the lipstick on with confidence, mostly staying within the lip liner Max had put on herself. She said that lip liner was way harder to do, and it was better to practice on your own lips. Chills went down his body as Max had said this, implying that Mike was gonna have to put on his own lip liner, while she watched. He ignored the dread welling up in his stomach, holding up the mirror for Max to see, she smiled immediately.
"Mike, this looks good, I'm kinda shocked."
"What you don't have faith in me, Mayfield?" He said teasingly.
"Not one ounce," she retorted, "I just, have you done this before?" She asked gently, as if speaking to a frightened deer.
"No, never," he said quickly, hoping it didn't sound as much like a lie and it did to him, even though he was speaking truthfully.
"Okay," accepting his truth as fact, "it's just shockingly good for a first time, like my first time doing makeup I looked like a circus clown, no joke... but I also didn't have anyone as cool as me show me the ropes, so, I suppose it makes sense." She smiled a wicked smile, her bright teeth showing off between her equally bright, flashing red lipstick. Mike wanted to look like that.
"There you go, Mayfield, I'm surprised you ever doubted yourself in the first place. Now I'm expecting you to make me look like a pop star."
They burst out laughing, "I could definitely see you up on stage, dancing like Madonna, dressed in a little sparkly number," her laughter was infectious, and Mike knew that it was just a joke, but it gave him a little thrill to see Max talking so freely about Mike in a sparkly outfit.
"All right Wheeler, choose your colors."
"Actually, can you choose them? I don't know- what'll look good."
"Sure, thing, if we're going for pop star, I'm thinking..." she rooted around Nancy's palettes, picking one out that only housed dark, deep colors. Mike liked this palette, they colors were diverting. Max pointed out two colors, one medium dark purple, and a matching dark purple, but it was shiny. "We can do these two, for like, added dimension, you know? You trust me?"
"Of course," he said quickly, eyeing the purple, "do whatever," adding quietly and unnecessarily. It was the most beautiful color he'd ever seen.
She worked on his face efficiently and effortlessly, he liked the feeling of the brush against his eyelids, even if it tickled. Mike didn't believe that Max wasn't very good at this like she'd said. Sometimes she just got embarrassed about being good at things, but he understood perfectly, so he didn't bring it up. She tried to hold up the hand mirror, but he'd grabbed it and tossed it onto the bed above them before he could catch a glimpse of himself. He didn't trust himself enough to finish this if he saw what he looked like with purple eye shadow on.
She raised her eyebrows at him, taking a sip of her drink. He shook his head in return, sipping his own drink in kind.
She did mascara next, not even needing to break out the cotton balls or safety pin, he was beyond grateful for that.
Last was the lip liner and lipstick, Max had placed the liner in Mike's hands almost questioningly, but Mike didn't think that he was ready to do his own, he looked up and searched her eyes, hoping she understood the silent plea he was sending her.
And she did, Mike liked that they could understand each other like this, he was surprised by it though, wondering when that happened, and how much she really understood from tonight. Max always knew more than she let on. The idea of her knowing made him want to laugh and throw up simultaneously. But he stayed still as she discarded the cap of the liner she'd chosen, it was a bright pink. It was a good color, but it didn't really feel like him, not like the purple felt like him.
"Wait," he almost gasped, she stilled her incoming hands and retracted them to her space, finding the cap and placing it back on the liner, while Mike rummaged about the makeup tote. He found the color he was looking for, the deepest red he could find. It was dark, but not overly so. It was almost the exact color of the evil queen's apple from Snow White, which he'd actually really enjoyed watching with Holly (and he'd told his little sister as much, but still made Holly promise to keep it a secret).
He shoved the products into Max's hands, more nervous than he'd been the whole night, having chosen his own lipstick colors, he worried over Max's reaction, but she only smiled at him, her fierce makeup giving way to a thoughtful expression.
She took his face in one hand, gripping his chin hard but not painfully, Mike opened his mouth like Max had done, and watched her quiet concentration. He could feel the liner pressing down on his lip line. Max took a little more time doing his than she had her own, but Mike supposed that made sense, and he truly appreciated the care she seemed to put into it, it made him feel delicate, like the makeup box covered with little flowers. Mike didn't even realize she'd finished the liner and grabbed the lipstick until he felt the sensation of it across his lips. This one was smoother, cooler, it glided on easier. He could feel the gloss of it when he puckered his lips. It was shiny and sticky, he didn't know how he felt about that.
"All done." Max was smiling wide. She moved his face back and forth once, getting a good look at him, before letting go. "You look killer. Definitely pop star material." He laughed as she said it, not really believing it. There was no way Michael Wheeler could ever look killer. Max must've been teasing, though he could only find sincerity in her face.
She guided him to the vanity and sat him down in front of the mirror. His stomach dropped as he realized she was right, he actually looked awesome. But he still felt like an idiot. A grimacing laugh bubbled up out of his throat before he could control it, echoing throughout Nancy's room, startling Max. He felt a little delirious, looking at himself like this. He thought about this moment so much, about how happy it would make him feel to finally cave and do it. He thought maybe it was just a weird quirk, like he had this random desire to do this thing, and once he did it, it would go away. But that's not how life works. He finally did it, and he realized he wanted this. Whatever this was, however sick it was, he wanted it, needed it. He didn't think he could feel complete without this. Which was so fucking stupid. He sat there, hands gripping the sides of the stool, staring at himself in the mirror, frowning. Tears welled up in his eyes, falling rapidly. He didn't move to wipe them away, not daring touch the makeup on his face. But it didn't matter much, it was ruined now, the streaks stained black all the way down his face and chin.
"Do you want me to take it off?" Max spoke gently as ever, sounding a little disappointed. He was tempted to say yes, to say yes and forget that any of this ever happened. To say yes and erase all of it.
But he couldn't do it, he shook is head in the negative, sharing a broken, "not yet."
"...Max?" They were in the kitchen, dried tear stains marking Mike's face, but he'd since stopped crying. His makeup still mostly intact, Max's was smudged a bit from where she rubbed her eyes, forgetting she even had anything on.
"Yeah?"
"Can you be honest with me? Please?"
She huffed out a startled laugh, "I'm always honest with you, Mike, like way more than I should be-"
"I know, but just, I need the truth about this, okay?" He looked entirely sincere, despite the dopey drunk look he had on his face. They'd downed another shot each. "Pinky promise me, Max."
"Psh, okay Mike." She took Mike's pinky in her own, they both knew this was a childish gesture, but somehow it meant everything.
"Are you disgusted with me?" He didn't look like he was on the verge of tears, but Max could hear the sadness permeating his voice, could see it echo in his movements.
"What are you talking about?"
"You know what I mean, with the... the makeup."
"I don't think you're disgusting because you're... wearing makeup, I mean, it was literally my suggestion dude. I thought it would be a fun party game or whatever." She was offering Mike an out if he wanted it, but she desperately hoped he didn't take it.
"No. Because I like- because I like to wear makeup, and I want to wear it, and because- I'm not normal, Max!" He was a little erratic, his voice pitched higher, flailing his arms around and pacing. Maybe Max couldn't understand exactly what it was like to feel this, but she knew what it was like to feel crazy, not normal, wrong.
"Hey, Mike. It's okay, I'm not disgusted, I actually think it's pretty cool. I've never met a guy that liked to wear makeup, it's kinda like a superpower, you know, you're cool." Max once again felt out of her depth.
"It's not a superpower, Max. I'm a freak." Max knew he would be crying again if he had any tears left, but she truly didn't think the struggling boy could produce any more.
"I'm a freak too, so is Lucas, and Dustin, and El, and Will- definitely El and Will." That made Mike laugh, besides El, the literal superhero, Will was definitely the most freak out of all of them, and he was proud of it now, he wore it really well. It was honestly amazing to watch Will become this confident, truthful version of himself. Mike was grateful for it, but he mostly felt... left behind. He still felt like the spiteful, asshole 14 year old version of himself. "Seriously, Mike, it doesn't matter. Maybe the rest of the world thinks it's weird, but screw them! Everyone, everyone is weird, most people just can't handle it so they take it out on everybody else. But the people who matter, the people we love and who love us, they love us unconditionally. We've fought monsters together! Nothing so stupid as makeup is going to tear us apart."
Mike was listening intently, but he didn't look like he fully believed her. "I want to believe that Max but it's just... I know everybody has their quirks but none of it is like this. I've had this in me for a long time and I finally just couldn't bear not doing anything about it. And it doesn't just stop at the makeup Max..."
She quirked her head to the side, "whatever it is, you can tell me, Mike."
"I don't know Max," he did know, but he wasn't sure how to put it. Wasn't sure how Max would take it, she was from California, and Mike supposed that made her pretty accepting, maybe if she was okay with the makeup, then she might be okay with this too. He looked over to Max, seeing the genuine concern on her face, and he made a decision.
"I've dated a few girls since El..." he wasn't sure how to begin, "...and they've been great. I mean I haven't loved any of them like I've loved El."
"Mike, if you're about to tell me you still have feelings for El..." She had her arms crossed, Max hadn't liked the couple when they were together. She knew Mike had really loved her, but they were young and impressionable, and for some reason, when they dated, they just brought out the worst in each other.
"No, no. Seriously, no." He denied quickly, "I think I have feelings for someone else," he dared to look back up at his friend, her mouth was gaping, the shock evident on her face.
"Hey, I'm flattered, but..." she was obviously trying to conceal a grimace.
Mike's own face contorted, a large frown planted on his face, "It's not you, Max!" He nearly shouted, "You're like a sister to me! Jesus."
"Oh thank God," she melted with relief, mostly because that was objectively gross, but partly because he'd just compared her to a sister, even though he already had two real sisters. The actual thought of Mike, of all people, liking her made her a little nauseous. And she was about to say as much when she was interrupted with-
"It's not any girl."
There was a poignant silence, one that made both parties squirm, and Max knew she had to end it, lest everything go to shit, "oh," she said, intelligently. It was honestly the best she could do.
"Yeah, oh..."
"So, Will then?"
"Am I that obvious?" He hid his head in his hands.
"No, no! It just... makes sense, now I mean." It was so clear to her now. Mike had always acted a little different with Will, and she could never figure out what it was. But now that he mentioned it, she could see it. How he acted with Will was how he acted with El, when they were dating at least, and he was much less insufferable about it.
"Do you think the others know?"
"There's no way. If I couldn't figure it out, then those dumb asses sure as shit have no clue, including Will, probably especially Will."
"Why especially Will? He's not stupid." Mike said, defending his best friend with an honest to God pout.
"Well, no, but he's also not..." Max didn't know how to say it. The whole Party knew Will was gay, but none of them had ever talked about it. They had all made a silent agreement to not bring it up until Will was ready to bring it up, which was proving to be never apparently. Seriously, it was very annoying. They had all said in some thinly veiled way to Will himself or in front of the whole group that gay was okay, okay well that's not what they said really, but that was the gist of it. The Party had hoped that that would be an effective way to get Will to open up, and maybe it did really help him grow into who he is now, confident, funny, and somehow still the same passionate and caring Will that he'd always been. Except that he still hadn't come out yet. Seriously, Max was starting to think this was a sick game Byers was playing, everybody knew he was a little evil nowadays too. "Ugh, you know, Mike, he's not out," Max practically whispered it, as if she was committing some sin by just acknowledging it.
"Max." He hissed back, whispering in kind.
"Listen, Wheeler, I know we don't talk about it, but don't try to deny it. Will's gay, he's not out, he probably isn't going to tell us anytime soon considering how the past year has gone, and I can guarantee you, he sure as shit still thinks he's the only gay guy in Hawkins. I mean, he probably thinks it's beyond crazy that we have a real life lesbian in the group, he's for sure not expecting another gay-"
"I'm not gay."
"-another whatever you are in the group, especially and most definitely not his best friend for the last, like, ten years."
"Thirteen."
"What?"
"We've been best friends for thirteen years."
"Jesus Christ, Mike. And how long have you felt like this?"
He rolled his eyes, "I don't know, Max. Maybe a lot time, but I didn't start noticing it until... last year, maybe."
"Oh yeah, well, that makes sense. Byers is hot now." Mike's face turned cherry red, his embarrassment completely engulfing the blush Max had put on not an hour ago. He nodded his head in agreement despite the palpable flush, causing Max to giggle just a little maliciously. "I think it's all the confidence, Byers knows what he's about, I just wish he would let us in."
"It's scary," Mike admitted.
"Yeah, but I can't imagine that holding all of that in, for years, by yourself is in any way better than being honest with your very loving, accepting friends."
"It's not, but Will's the strongest person I know, he can get through anything, and if he thinks he has to do it alone, then he will. It's that simple, he won't burden anyone with this until he genuinely can't avoid it anymore."
They sat in thought for a moment, before Max declared they needed more drinks. The zoomer whipped up drinks like nothing and Mike brought the radio down from Nancy's room, turning the pop hits station up high. They had talked a bit about Mike's not-so-new crush on William Byers, which absolutely delighted Max. She loved to gossip and plot and conspire. They talked about the likelihood that Will liked him back, which she thought was an incredibly obvious yes. Of course Mike decidedly disagreed with her theories, why would he like me, of all people? And now that they were now thoroughly drunk the night devolved into dancing around the kitchen and signing along with the radio at the top of their lungs. Max was having the time of her life, performing her own private concert with none other than Michael Wheeler in purple eye shadow and red lipstick, it was genuinely so much better than that boring ass party. The two of them were so caught up in their own fun that the sound of knocking coming from the basement was like flooding the kitchen with cold water. It was half past 1 AM for God's sake.
"Who the fuck is that."
Lucas privately -well he had in fact aired his many grievances with a very drunk Will Byers, but to no avail- thought this was a terrible plan. Will was drunk and whining, honestly, about needing to see Mike. As if he didn't see him all the time. Dustin and El had gotten a ride back to Steve's place with Robin, they'd gotten pretty drunk too and needed to sleep off the inevitable hangover in the morning- without parental disturbances. So Lucas was stuck with one, very drunk Will Byers.
Lucas had wanted to go home. The plan was to drop Will off at the Byers with El, but since she left, Will was going home with Lucas. Which was fine, Will knew how to be quiet even when he was drunk, and Lucas genuinely had fun hanging out with drunk Byers- he was loose in a way he never let himself be sober. So he was having a good time, that is until they got out of the car now parked neatly in Lucas' driveway and Will made an immediate B-line for Mike's place, which was only a couple blocks away.
"Will!" Lucas jogged after him, catching up easily. "Where the heck do you think you're going?" He grabbed Will's arm, slowing him down gently.
"I want to see Mike," Lucas was surprised at how coherent he sounded, until, "It's Miiiiike, Lucas com'on, I need to see his face."
Oh no, was all Lucas could think. He had known for a long time that Will was in love with Mike, like seriously in love. They hadn't talked about it, they hadn't even talked about Will being gay, which he was pretty sure everyone in the Party knew. And he was equally sure that Will knew that everybody knew he was gay. He just, refused to talk about it, so the Party never brought it up. He knew Will was at least semi-grateful for that, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out why.
"I don't think that's a good idea, Will."
Will looked offended and disappointed at the same time, a slow pout forming on his face. "Why?" He crossed his arms in front of him, "because I'm-" He cut himself short immediately, clearly surprising himself with whatever he was about to say.
"Because he's sick, Will, I doubt he's even awake."
Will raised his eyebrows, efficiently communicating how stupid he thought that argument was. "Max is there," was all he said before turning back to Mike's house and walking on.
"Dammit." Lucas turned back to the car and quickly grabbed their jackets, racing to catch up to Will, who could walk surprisingly fast, and shoving the jacket at the older boy, who put it on with more grace than he should've been capable of considering he was drunk off his ass. And just like that, whatever grace he'd been blessed with must've evacuated his body, Will tripped on the uneven sidewalk and nearly went down, Lucas grabbing him before he hit the ground and steadying him. As they set off again Lucas looped his arm through Will's, forcing him to walk a straight line.
"I'm fine, Lucas," Will said petulantly, he had trouble letting people help him. He was stubbornly independent, probably because of how much Joyce used to coddle him. Lucas understood though, Will must've felt totally suffocated.
"Oh would you just accept my damn help for once?" He said, swatting Will with his free hand, Will swatted back.
"You are such a mom, Lucas."
"And you, William Byers, are an asshole."
A blinding smile took over Will's face, teeth bared without second thought, crinkles forming at the corners of his eyes, "thank you my dear Sinclair, I try."
"I know you do," Lucas smiled back. He loved it when Will got playful and a little rude, it reminded him of how he used to be, before all that bullshit with the Upside Down happened, it also showed him just how far Will had come since then, how much he had to overcome. Lucas was so happy for Will, and so grateful to be friends with him. If he was honest, Lucas considered Will one of his closest friends. Well, they were all best friends, and he couldn't beat whatever it was between Mike and Will, but privately, Lucas thought Will was one the best people he'd ever had the pleasure of knowing, and he wouldn't trade that for the world.
They walked in quiet harmony for a block before the sound of Will's thoughtful voice permeated the air, "how did you know?"
Lucas turned his head to the side, only to find himself staring nearly at the back of Will's head. His eyes were focused on the woods, he did that a lot. Lucas knew Will wasn't scared of the woods anymore, but he also knew when Will zoned out, his eyes were usually trained on the woods. Sometimes he could hold whole conversations without even realizing he was a part of one, some piece of Will still harbored a strong survival instinct, a remnant leftover from being hunted for a week, and nobody could fault him for that.
"Know what?" Lucas lightly bumped Will with their interlocked arms, the older boy stayed his gaze on the woods.
"About me."
"What-" he didn't think he wanted to have this conversation right now.
"You know exactly what I'm talking about." Will's head finally swiveled, looking Lucas straight on, a mix of exasperation and desperation playing out on his face. "Don't make me say it, please," his voice sounded smaller than it had in years, and Lucas' heart broke to hear it.
He opened his mouth like a goldfish and immediately shut it, not knowing quite the right thing to say. Will rolled his eyes in response. "No, that's okay, we'll just pretend it's not true, like we have been for- for forever."
"Will-"
"It's fine, I can do this. I'll just pretend, like I always do. I can be normal-"
"No, shut up. Listen to me." Lucas knew he sounded a little harsh, but he needed to stop this train of thought immediately. "That's not what's happening, I've just been waiting for you to say something, to tell me. I've been trying to tell you it's okay for ages now." He sighed, "just thought you didn't want to talk about it."
"I don't want to talk about it..." A moment passed and he shifted, "well, I guess maybe I do. I'm just so fucking tired, Lucas."
"I know, and it's okay, Will. None of us care, I promise. It doesn't change who you are. You're still you, and we love you, I love you."
There were tears in Will's eyes, but he never let them fall. "I love you too, I'm being stupid, I've been stupid for years. It just felt like, everything has been slotting into place for me, except for this. I thought I would grow out of it, that I could change it. And I tried... I really tried," Lucas grimaced at the idea of Will going through that alone, "but I can't, so I guess my only option is to- accept it." He stated a little begrudgingly.
Lucas huffed out a little laugh, "I think it'll be easier to accept now that we can actually talk about it."
"Uggghh, Lucas nooooo. I don't wanna talk about it with anyone else. It's too hard."
"Come on, not even Mike?"
"Especially not Mike." Lucas sensed a tone shift he didn't like. "Mike can't ever know."
"Dude, you have to tell him sometime..."
"No- I mean, I know he already knows. I know everyone knows, by the way," he sent a pointed look to Lucas as if he'd had anything to do with that, "I just can't handle him really knowing. You know?"
Lucas narrowed his eyes, "dude, use your words, I have no idea what you just said."
"Ugh, forget it, look we're already here." Lucas tried to stop him before he could run off to the basement door, but Will was strong and he easily got out of Lucas' grip. Lucas had spent the whole walk thinking this was a mistake and almost turning them back around, but as soon as he heard it, he relaxed.
Madonna's vocals were blaring through the locked doors of the Wheeler house, it must've just been ending because the song faded out quickly. He could still hear laughing and singing, even after the music ended, it made him smile. At least Max could cheer up a sick Michael Wheeler, it was an impressively hard feat, and if he was honest, he didn't think Max had the patience to be up to the task, but he was glad to be proved wrong nonetheless. Mike and Max's friendship was relatively new and weird and tentative, but their bond was already stronger than most. And God help anyone who got in the way of the Zoomer and the Paladin, they'd surely be struck down in the most brutal, humiliating way.
Will was already knocking furiously when Lucas made it to the door. A new song came on, Lucas knew immediately it was Girls Just Wanna Have Fun. It was a good song and he hummed along to it while they waited.
The phone rings, in the middle of the night
My father yells, "What you gonna do with your life?"
All of a sudden, the door whipped open, a surprised Max standing in front of the otherwise empty doorway.
That's all they really want
Some fun
"Lucas?!"
"Will?!"
When the workin' day is done
Oh girls, they wanna have fun
Lucas almost laughed at the synchronization of their voices, "hey," he supplied to Max, looking past her to find Mike Wheeler, in fighting stance, baseball bat in hand, and makeup on his face. Lucas' mouth gaped open, he looked to Will to find his mouth already open. The boy was literally stunned into silence. Lucas looked back at Max, just now realizing she was covered in makeup too, it didn't look like she'd done it, it wasn't very good. But Mike's looked good, it looked like Max's when she actually did do her makeup, but not at all the same color palette, and save for the few tear streaks that marred the otherwise untouched look.
Some boys take a beautiful girl
And hide her away from the rest o' the world
"Oh shit!" Max slammed the door shut, Will looked supremely put out to not be on the other side of it.
I wanna be the one to walk in the sun
Oh girls, they wanna have fun
Oh girls just wanna have
They waited there in stunned silence before the door opened again, Max smiling sweetly, "hey guys," she'd definitely had more to drink since the party, "what're ya doing here?" She said a little sheepishly, with an obvious lack of Mike Wheeler in the background.
"Um, we just wanted to check up on you-"
"How sweet, we're good, you can go. Mike is actually really sick so he's probably already in bed right now."
Oh girls, they wanna have fun
Oh girls just wanna have fun (girls, they want)
It was such an obvious lie that Lucas had to laugh, what a night this was turning out to be. Will's mouth was still wide open, he looked like he'd seen a ghost. Max noticed it too and narrowed her eyes at him, Lucas got the hint and nudged Will, a little harder than was necessary. He shut his mouth with a click and breathed out a nearly imperceptible beautiful. He definitely didn't realize he'd said it, Lucas and Max locked eyes, having a silent conversation.
"Are you guys... good?" Lucas asked lowly.
Max nodded her head solemnly, "just don't tell anyone about this, okay?"
Lucas reciprocated the affirmative and added, "as long as you don't tell anyone about that," referring to Will's momentary lapse in judgement.
They shook on it, Lucas preparing to turn on his heel and Max already shutting the door, but Will stuck his arm out, blocking all movement and stopping his friends in their tracks.
"Max, wait," Lucas was constantly surprised at how put together Will could make himself sound even when he was wasted, "tell him I think he's beautiful."
They just want, they just wanna (girls)
They just want, they just wanna (girls just wanna have fun)
"What?" She chuckled nervously.
"Please?"
"You're drunk, Will. If I told him you said that you'd hate me in the morning."
"I don't care, Max, it doesn't matter. He needs to know that he's beautiful. Please, tell him, if not for me than for him?"
He had the whole pleading puppy dog thing down, which he'd definitely stolen from Mike. Lucas knew that Max couldn't deny him a thing looking like that, and he actually didn't think that she should, in this instance. Mike did look pretty beautiful after all and he deserved to know. He secretly also thought that Mike would get a thrill out of hearing that Will thought he was beautiful, but he didn't voice that part.
With one last look at Lucas, Max agreed, said a hasty goodnight and shut the door.
They started their walk back to Lucas' in silence, pondering the events of the night. Will, ever the one to break silence, sighed loudly. Lucas didn't think he even realized he did this, but he'd done it whenever there was something he needed to get off his chest, like immediately.
"What's up?"
"I'm in love with him." He said it so matter of factly, like the admission came just as easily as breath, like it had been settled into his bones for all of time. And suddenly, Lucas understood what Will had meant when he said he didn't want Mike to really know. For Will, being gay was just as much a part of him as was his love for Mike. Will wasn't Will when he didn't love Mike.
Lucas clapped him on the back, "I know, buddy."
"Max, be honest, did they see me?" Mike was fidgeting nervously on the living room couch.
"Um... okay yes, they did see you."
"Oh God, everything is ruined," he threw his hands in his hair, "I don't know why I thought I could have this!"
"Hey! Mike, stop freaking out. It's okay." The look on his face said please, enlighten me, tell me how any of this is okay. "Lucas was just shocked, he wasn't upset obviously. He didn't seem to care, like, at all. Genuinely I think he was more focused on Cyndi Lauper.
"Kill me know," he groaned.
"Not like that! He was humming, he loves that song, Mike."
"Okay," he said drawing it out, devoid of any belief in what Max was saying, "...what about... Will? He was staring at me the whole time, Max." He sighed, calming a little, "that look on his face? I have never seen that look before."
"Okay, don't freak out-"
"I'm gonna freak out."
"Shut up." She chided, knowing better how to navigate the impending doom that Mike Wheeler harbored now that she had experienced more of his breakdowns in one night than she had in the years she'd known him. "He told me to tell you..."
"Just rip the bandaid off. He doesn't wanna be friends anymore, right?"
"No dumb ass, have a little more faith in your friends. He told me to tell you that he thought you were beautiful." For once, Mike Wheeler was speechless and Max took the opportunity to go on. "He was practically begging me, I believe his exact words were I think he's beautiful and He needs to know that he's beautiful and there were quite a few please's in there too." Mike still couldn't speak, Max was relishing it. "And the absolute look on his face! He looked like he'd been struck by lightning. I'd say you've got quite a good chance there, Wheeler."
"...chance?" Mike couldn't think properly.
"You love Will, I think he damn well loves you back."
"Holy fuck," was all Mike could say.
They stayed up for a while, easily chatting about Will and Lucas, trading stories and comparing notes. When they finally did go to bed that night, he slept easily, better than he'd slept in months. If Max asked he'd say the alcohol put him right to sleep, but he would keep the truth closer to his chest. He dreamt of Will that night, Will telling him he was beautiful, Will sitting entirely too close to Mike, sides pressed together, Will taking his hand and dragging him across the woods, Will running a hand through Mike's hair until he fell asleep. All things that had happened before, and he knew, at some point, would happen again, if he wanted them to. If he decided he could be brave.
When Mike woke up, his immediate resolution was to bike to Lucas', steal Will, and tell him exactly what he dreamt of that night, after of course, he washed the previous night's escapades off of him, re-curled his eyelashes, and dotted blush along his own cheeks. Mike could be brave, he wanted to be brave.