Chapter Text
Mike has a lot to apologize for, he knows this. The problem is trying to find the words for it all. For over a year, he’s failed to find them. He’s become silent in the spaces where laughter and remarks used to live, distance in the rooms he used to occupy so fully, far from the people he used to hold close. He’s sorry for a lot these days, most of all, he’s sorry to Will.
The Byers’ have been living with them since coming back from California, a dream that a much younger Mike used to pray for, begging his mom to let Will stay the night when he was already due to be home because it was a almost always a school night, and his parents never let them stay up long on weekdays. Mike remembers those days in a bit of a nostalgic haze, half convinced it must have been a dream. Some days it’s hard to remember their lives had ever been normal, at least some shade of it.
But only normal kids can live normal lives, and Mike Wheeler, for all of his pretenses, is anything but.
Now, they barely talk. Their conversations consist of awkward almost smiles that twist to grimaces, stunted words, and strained silences. The worst thing? It’s all Mike’s fault.
He was the asshole who never wrote to Will while he was gone, never called at the right times, the one who focused too much on who he was supposed to be because he was too scared to be different. He still is. How does he start to apologize for that?
Hey, I’m sorry for ignoring you for the past year and a half, it’s just that thinking of you makes me feel sick. But, if you feel like it, maybe we can go back to being friends while I continue to keep you at arms length because I apparently hate myself.
He’s not been able to figure out a better way to word it, but he has a hunch that won’t fly for a solid apology. But, fortunately, today won’t be the day he tries it out anyway, because he bumps into Will maybe a total of two times per day and Dinner time is the last he usually sees of the boy, and it’s fast ending in a blur of conversation and clattering dishes as it usually does since the Byers’ have moved in.
Mike has a love-hate relationship with family meals. On the one hand, he feels the distance between them more acutely when they’re together like this. Sitting across the table from each other, unable to avoid those dreaded moments of eye contact, but too distant to actually feel friendly with each other again. On the other hand, Will talks. Something’s changed in him since California. Will’s always been the quiet sort, but since he went missing, he’s been more reserved. California changed him, he’s still Will, but brighter somehow. So, at the breakfast and dinner, he talks and laughs and makes conversation with Mike’s mom as he helps her clean up after every meal, radiant in a way he was too afraid to be before.
It makes Mike want to- he doesn't know, only that it makes him want.
But the looks they share are enough to remind Mike that he’s not allowed to want anything from Will. Not his friendship, or his company, or his bright new smile. They’re strangers at best these days and it’s Mike’s fault. Mike isn’t allowed anything, least of all to want.
Too soon, dinner ends. Mike lingers as long as he can get away with, taking his time bringing plates and cups to the sink for his mom and Will to wash and helping Joyce wipe down the table and floor where spare crumbs escaped the table. Even though he and Will don’t talk, his relationship with the Byers’ haven’t been completely severed. Joyce is kind as ever, even though she’s surely noticed how distant he and Will have been recently. She tells him quietly how El’s doing, giving him updates on her training that she spends hours everyday helping her and Hopper with at the junkyard. Mike smiles and nods, feeling pride swell at every improvement Joyce mentions to him. He doesn't have to fake any of it, El remains the most incredible girl he’s ever met, she’ll probably always keep that spot. She’s just not his girl anymore. No one knows that yet.
They’re not keeping it a secret on purpose, it just doesn't ever come up. And how can Mike drop the bomb on everyone else when they have their own shit to deal with. It feels selfish to ask for that attention, to receive comfort that he doesn't need. So, he says nothing. It’s been nearly six months.
Him and El, despite their separation, have become closer for it. With the pressure off to be the perfect boyfriend for her, he feels a lot more relaxed around her. They can talk without expectation and sit in silence without it being uncomfortable in a way that didn’t exist for them before. El has always been incredible, hell, she’s like their own personal superhero, but Mike sees her for much more than that. Maybe even better than he did when they were growing up.
“You alright hon?” Joyce startles him out of his thoughts, looking at him with that motherly concern of hers.
“Huh, oh. Yeah. Sorry, I was just thinking. I’m really glad to hear that. I won’t be surprised if she gets to 12:30 by the end of the month at this rate.”
“You and me both,” She smiles, pride written all over her face. One thing about Joyce Byers is that she’s going to love her kids, regardless of how unconventional it is to raise one with superpowers. “The boys are going to join me tomorrow if you want to tag along. I know El would like to see you, especially since things are going to be slowing down soon with the snow coming around.”
“Oh, um,” Mike is about to decline as politely as he can, some excuse about needing to help out at the shelter, or his mom needing him for something, but she’s in the same room, and no doubt will hear the lie the second it leaves his tongue even if she’s too engaged in her conversation with Will to hear anything else. “I- I’d like that, thank you.” She pats him on the shoulder with a smile and gets back to cleaning, letting Mike spiral in his immediate regret. Going means spending an entire day with Will, something they haven't done in- he can’t even remember how long.
It can’t be too bad, right?
~~~
Wrong.
The day’s barely started and Mike can already feel how wrong he was. It really is That Bad. He wakes up a little late, rushing to get ready before the Byers’ leave without him, and the bathroom is locked. He’s annoyed, knocking insistantly on the door, shouting out, “Hurry up, Nancy. I’m gonna be late.” Nancy always takes the longest to get ready in the morning, and this has become a routine for them to shout at each other in the mornings for a turn in the bathroom over the years.
It’s why he doesn't think twice about being obnoxious, and why, when the door opens, he’s shocked and horrified to see hazel eyes looking back at him instead of brown ones. Fuck. Will has an odd expression on his face, waiting for Mike to say something probably. He should probably say he’s sorry for being an ass or something, but as it is, he’s shell shocked into silence from embarrassment and whatever else is crawling up his chest. Will’s hair is wet and messy, presumably from rushing to get ready after Mike’s whining, and - well, it looks good on him, especially since his hair has grown out of his usual bowl cut over the years. Privately, Mike hopes he keeps this style. It suits him. And that is also wildly off topic, because they’re both just staring at each other, and Will ducks his head sheepishly, muttering, “Sorry, basement shower is broken.” before squeezing past Mike.
Dumbly, Mike nods, even though Will had already left. He walks into the bathroom and closes the door, thunking his head against it.
Stupid. Thunk. Idiot. Thunk.
Maybe instead of showering, he should drown himself in the bathtub.
Breakfast passes normally enough, save for the lingering mortification Mike nurses all throughout the meal. He avoids any and all eye contact with Will, and ignores the questioning look his mom shoots him halfway through breakfast. He’s making a big deal out of nothing, he knows. Three years ago, they would have just laughed it off without a second thought because it’s really nothing to worry about, but this is now. They’re strangers forced to be housemates more than they’re friends these days and all Mike can feel is this confusing mix of feelings where he doesn't know how he’s allowed to act around Will anymore. Not sure how close he deserves to be after everything he’s done to keep him away.
Whatever. He just needs to get through today. And Joyce was right yesterday, it will be nice to see El. They talk over the walkie-talkie every few days, but it’s been a minute since he’s visited given all the time she spends training and how discrete they have to be because of the military’s hunt for her.
Breakfast finishes up and Mike says goodbye to his parents. His mom says it back and his dad just grunts from where he has his nose stuck in the morning paper. Then they’re off. Mike regrets not wearing a pair of gloves almost immediately after stepping outside. Winters are always cold in Hawkins, but the bite of the air feels colder this year. Perhaps it’s something to do with the supernatural forces that quite literally split the earth in half, or the snow Mike is sure they’ll be seeing soon. Joyce drives them about a mile out to what looks like any random road in Hawkins, pulling off to the shoulder of the road and into a shallow divot in the grass, right before the thick treeline of the forest. They can’t physically drive to the junk yard or else they risk giving up El’s location and thus, her safety. So, they take the tunnels.
One of the entrances is hidden in the forest, which is where they’re heading now. Mike is glad the Byers know the tunnels much more than he does, otherwise they’d all get lost before they even make it to the entrance. They aren’t as familiar with them as say El and Hopper, but they’re still leagues ahead of Mike, who has barely used them and never on his own. It’s a bit of a walk to physically get to them, but once they’re there, they all filter in one at a time, Mike last, being at the back of their small group, shivering quietly to himself.
He forgot how dark it was inside, especially when he flips the latch closed behind him, plunging them in full darkness before the flashlights turn on. Mike tries his best to no avail. He hits it against the dirt wall. Still, nothing. His battery must be dead. It’s okay, they have more than enough light as it is. He just needs to get off the ladder and stick somewhere in the middle of the group.
Easier said than done apparently, because luck decided that today is not his day. He takes one step down, blindly feeling for the next ring on the ladder and slips.
“Shit.” he curses, falling the last couple of feet to the floor, stumbling right into Will, because, of course he does. Luck hates his guts. He would have taken them both down if Will didn’t react so quickly, steadying his back and supporting himself with the wall. He turns around, not really able to see Will’s face, but feeling his own flame up. “Thanks,” he mumbles. “I couldn’t see,” he lamely explains.
“No problem. Um- do you want to share?” He gestures around his flashlight, letting the beam dance around the tunnel.
“Uh, yeah. Thanks.”
“Mhm.”
It’s an awkward exchange, cold with none of their familiarity, but it’s more than they’ve had in over a year, so Mike takes it greedily. They all walk in silence after that, with Joyce leading the group, and Johnathan following behind her, leaving Mike and Will at the back. Mike thinks he sees Johnathan look back at them a couple times, but by the time he looks his way, his head is already turned back around. Mike doesn't know what to make of it. He doesn't know a lot, really.
It’s about a twenty minute walk until they get to the entrance. The light is blinding when Joyce opens the hatch, Mike has to blink against the onslaught of it. He unintentionally looks towards Will, who is squinting too, head tilted to his left, where Mike is. Inexplicably, Mike feels his lips pull upwards for no particular reason other than he and Will are feeling the same ridiculously mundane reminder that light is bright. A lot like kids in a classroom when the teacher turns on the overhead lights after showing a film to the class. It’s silly, but for some reason, it’s something. Especially when Will mirrors him with an equally ridiculous smile, small but there.
Mike hangs back, letting Will go up first. He watches the other boy ascend into the sunlight perhaps for a moment too long before remembering it’s his turn, he’s the last one out after all.
Once he emerges into the outside world, he hears a happy shout of, “Will!” as El runs up to them, pulling Will into a tight hug. Mike watches them, something like envy stirring in his gut, not of Will, but of El. Of their closeness, yes, Mike has never been close enough to hug his sisters like that, but also, of the fact that he hasn’t been close enough to Will to hug him in far too long. It’s a strange thing, wanting. Inexplicable in how it manifests and uncontrollable when it rises. Mike is saved from thinking too much on it when El releases Will and captures him in a hug of his own. She’s warm and comforting, same as she’s always been, and Mike welcomes the familiarity, before Johnathan’s voice cuts between them. “Okay lovebirds, let’s get going.”
They break apart, El with a questioning expression on her face and Mike quickly feeling the dread pool in his stomach.
“We are not together.”
What was that he was saying about luck earlier? Oh yeah, it hates him today. He’s certain.
There’s a brief, stunned silence that Mike wants to die in, before he clears his throat. “Um, yeah. We sort of broke up. Like, a while ago?”
More silence, from all except Hopper who rolls his eyes and bulldozes through the awkwardness. “Thank god, now out of the way Wheeler. Can we get to training, please?”
Mike has never once been more grateful for Hopper than he is now, he’s almost relieved that the man hates his guts because he either already knew or just didn’t give a crap. Though, Mike suspects he knew, and that he probably threw a celebration for the news. Either way, no one mentions it after that. They focus on setting up and resetting the course in between every run El does, time increasing even though her energy must be depleting the longer she keeps at it. Mike is in awe of her, and whoops along with everyone else every time she shaves off a second or three from her previous time, all without a single bloody nose.
“14:47” Joyce reads on her last run of the day. She started with 14:59, that’s an impressive 12 seconds that they all cheer for, Will hugging El as they laugh together. Hopper and Joyce high five like proud parents and the energy is enough to bring out the first sparks of joy Mike has let himself feel in a while. He misses this, painfully, desperately. But all moments must end, and as the day fades, it’s time to head back to the tunnels so they're back before dinner at the Wheeler house kicks off.
They all bid goodbye to El and Hopper with a mix of hugs, a quick kiss between the parents, and a look that Mike doesn't like directed at him from Hopper. It’s familiar, reminiscent of before. Mike resolves to carry the feeling with him for as long as he can as he descends back into the tunnels. Joyce and Johnathan trail a little further ahead of them on the way back this time, or maybe they hang back. Mike doesn't know, only that it feels like the illusion of privacy, that they’re alone together for the first time in entirely too long.
“Today was good,” he says abruptly, for the sake of having something to say, a way to keep his usual mood from returning. Maybe it’s a mistake, they don’t talk anymore, but maybe they can. Either way, Mike wants them to, and if Will is opposed, he does a bad job of showing it beyond a startled look that clears as soon as it appears.
“Yeah,” he agrees, “it was.” The silence stretches, and Mike thinks that’s going to be it until, “thank you for coming. I mean, El was happy to see you. She misses being able to see everyone, so, I’m sure she was thrilled you came.”
“Yeah, I’m glad I came too. I- I should be there more often.” It’s true. The party is there sporadically, less so on school days, but of all of them, Mike is there the least. Will goes every weekend with his family. Lucas splits his time between visiting Max at the hospital and visiting El on the hours he can spare. Dustin is… well different, grieving, angry. Mike gets it, he was the closest to Eddie, and it’s been hard, especially with what everyone’s been saying. But still, he manages to show up more than Mike - who spends most of his time self isolating in his room. He’ll do better, he decides. Of everyone, he has the weakest reason to be acting the way he does. He will be better.
“Well,” Will drags him out of his thoughts. “You were here today.” It’s simple, more fact than anything else, but Mike feels touched regardless. Hears more in those words that Will probably even means, he was here. Not just physically, but mentally too. A break in the fog of his usual avoidance.
“Yeah, um, I’ll be there more often.” He says more for himself than to Will. “I’m sorry,” he adds, more to Will.
He doesn't clarify, but the look on Will's face makes him think he knows what he means anyway. “It’s okay.”
Only two words. Three syllables, if you count that kind of thing. It’s somehow the biggest weight of Mike’s chest. An absolution for the wrongness that’s been brewing in him. Mike averts his eyes just in case it starts spilling over on his face. For a while, they walk in silence again, steps echoing around the tunnel with their elbows occasionally brushing one another. Once, Mike steps slightly sideways on purpose for no other reason than he wants the contact.
He doesn't know how long it’s been when Will speaks again, low enough that it’s for Mike to hear alone. “About what you and El said, earlier, you two broke up?”
Will looks at him, and Mike can only meet his gaze for a second before he has to look away, afraid of what his face might tell him that he can’t in words. “Yeah, um, I don’t know. I think it’s been… six months. Or something.” He mutters, getting quieter as he goes on. Not that it matters, Will heard him loud and clear.
“Six months?”
Mike shushes him, causing Joyce and Johnathan to look back at them before diverting their attention again. Great. He doesn't doubt that they’ll be listening now.
“Um yeah,” is all he has to reply to.
“But, why?”
It’s Will’s voice that makes him look back at him again. Genuine wonder bordering on concern. Mike reads it all over his face too, and somehow it makes Mike feel awful. Why did he break up with the most incredible girl he knows? Why could he not love her the way she wanted? Why does he keep failing the people he loves most? Why indeed. Maybe he was lying to himself. It’s not the worry he wanted to avoid, but the questions that’ll come with it. Because answering them means coming to terms with the truth himself, recognizing that he’s flawed and different and just as much of a freak as everyone thought he was. What other explanation does he have for himself than a truth he’s been running from for years now, a truth staring him in the face.
“We just did, Will,” is what he says instead. The lie rolled desperately off his tongue.
“That’s not an answer, Mike.”
“Just- not right now, okay? I don’t want to talk right now.”
Silence, then, “okay.” And that’s the end of their conversation and whatever good mood Mike tricked himself into today. They don’t speak after that, not the rest of the way in the tunnel, or on the drive back, or all through dinner. Mike thinks, perhaps naively, that they’ll go back to being whatever they were before today. Housemates, strangers, people that interact only on the definition of those two words, as if that’s all they’ve ever been. If today taught him anything, it's that Mike should know better than to assume anything apparently.
~~~
Later in the night, way after dinner and Mike has gotten ready for the night, he hears a soft knock on his door. He didn’t know who he was expecting when he opened the door, but it wasn’t Will. Will who has also gotten ready for bed and is dressed in a soft yellow sweater that suits him and his hair is adorably mussed as if he ran his hands through it one too many times. Mike stops his thoughts, he’s not supposed to notice those things about his best friend.
He clears his throat, thinking about something else, just in case Will developed the ability to suddenly read his thoughts. “Hey,” he greets, “um, what’s up?”Mike tries not to cringe at how awkward he sounds.
Will looks around, “Is it okay if I come in?” Immediately, Mike widens the door and steps aside for Will, invitation obvious. Once the door is shut, Will spins on his heel, facing Mike, who feels very unprepared for this entire interaction. “Sorry if this is- um. I don’t want to bother you, but it’s about earlier. You said you didn’t want to talk about it, and I get that, but I’ve been thinking about it, and if you tell me what happened, I think you can fix it. I mean, clearly El still cares about you, and I’m sure whatever went down isn’t world ending enough to keep you both apart. Sure, it might take time, but I think I can help-”
“Woah,” Mike interrupts, wondering where the hell this is coming from. “Nothing happened. We just decided we were best as friends.”
Will seems to deflate on the spot, his well prepared rant clearly going out with Mike’s interjection. “Then, what?” He asked as if that was enough of a question. In some ways, it is, and he seems to know that because Mike just sighs, rubbing his eyes tiredly as he plops down on his bed. Will follows him, sitting beside him easily, like only yesterday they were having sleepovers every weekend instead of ignoring each other in the same house for the past year and a half.
“We just haven't been good for a long time, I guess. I mean, we were both growing apart and refusing to do anything about it. And El, she’s incredible, you know that as well as I do. I don’t know why I couldn’t-” Mike breaks off, unsure how to say this without it giving too much of him away. “I couldn’t be who she needed,” he decided. “And don’t tell me I’m wrong,” he adds, when Will opens his mouth. The other boy closes it. “I’ve had more than enough time to think about it before and after the break up, and I’m sure of it. It’s easier to love her as a friend than it was to love her as her boyfriend, and I think she agrees.” Mike laughs a bit, “she’s the one who brought it up too, much kinder than the first time she broke up with me though.” It’s Will’s turn to laugh as they both remember the moment she walked up to him, ice cream in hand, declaring “I dump your ass,” the summer they were all thirteen. “It’s better this way.” Mike says resolutely, surprising himself by how sure he is. How honest he’s being.
Will nods, soaking in his words, considering them in that careful way of his that Mike admires. Him and El have that in common, they’re both so caring with the things they say. Mike loves it as much as he envies it.
“That’s really great, Mike. It’s a lot better than I was expecting before coming in here, if I’m honest. I just- I don’t know. I always thought that you two were it, I think. I mean, for a couple years there, you two were practically attached at the hip.” They laugh a little, and Mike swallows the urge to say that before El, it was Will he was attached to. He’s not laughing anymore. Will stops shortly after too, thoughtful once more. “Are you happy?”
Is he happy?
That’s a loaded question isn’t it. There’s very little for Mike to be happy about, to be honest. But he doesn't like how that makes him sound. He has his family, Will, and his friends. He’s alive for starters, and maybe, if he lets himself be hopeful, he’ll make it out past this mess. See things through to the other side with all his friends, maybe even lead part of the action again. But is he happy? No, he doesn't suppose he is. Even with all the world ending things aside, Mike hasn’t been happy in a long time. It’s the kind of realization that usually pushes him deeper in his unhappiness, but Will is next to him, and it’s hard to feel the full weight of that when he has him by his side. Will waits patiently for Mike to respond, seeing to understand it’s a harder question than it seems.
“I don’t know,” he starts, “sometimes I think I could be, like today. It was probably the best day I’ve had in months. Other times, though, it feels like I’ll never be happy. I mean, yeah, the world is just about ending every year, maybe next time it really will. But, past that, I don’t know when was the last time I was really happy.”
“Do you think you will be? Once things settle, I mean.”
Mike thinks, “I really don’t know. If I’m lucky, maybe. But I’ve already established that luck and I don’t get along very well.”
Will frowns, “Do you think that’s what determines happiness? Luck?”
Mike shrugs, “I mean, maybe? Although I’m not entirely sure happiness exists. Sometimes I think it’s a lie made up to keep people going, and an empty promise everyone pretends at.” Mike doesn't know, he’s never met a singly happy person in his life. Not his parents, not his friends, not the people he encounters at stores or school. Everyone just seems a different shade of miserable, if he’s honest. Even then, he feels like he’s the deepest shade of them all. Will is silent long enough that Mike asks, “What do you think?”
“I’m not sure if happiness exists for me,” is what he says. Mike doesn't like that, a world in which Will Byers isn’t happy is a horribly world. It’s not one Mike wants to call him either, because if anyone deserves to be happy, it’s Will. He’s suffered more than anyone ever probably, and has still come out the other side gentle and kind and made of goodness that Mike has never known in anyone else. Maybe because it doesn't exist anywhere else. Mike used to think that Will Byers soaked up all the good in Hawkins the day he was born, he’s practically made of it. How can that be possible when they’re surrounded by this, a town marked by hate and destruction and the supernatural. Mike doesn't want to accept it.
“If anyone should be happy, it’s you, Will. You deserve it more than anyone.”
Will just shakes his head. “I don’t know if I can be.”
Who is Mike to argue with ? He wants to, desperately, but he knows his words alone can’t change Will’s mind. So he doesn't try, instead he says, “Well, maybe not. Maybe we’ll both be unhappy together for the rest of our lives. But it won’t stop me trying, okay? You might not believe it’s possible, and that’s fine, but I’ll believe it for you. Alright?”
Will looks at him, some unnamed emotion splitting his face. It’s so intense that Mike feels like he should look away, but he refuses. He bumps their knees together and tries not to lean into the weight of Will next to him. He laughs suddenly, perhaps a little wetly, shaking his head a bit.
“Here I thought I was coming to solve your problems.”
“You do enough of that as it is, let someone fix yours for a change.” Mike thinks about it for all of three seconds before placing his hand on Will's shoulder, sinking into the soft fabric and the warmth of his body beneath it. “I’m sorry I haven’t been here,” he confesses softly, “I will be, from now on.” Mike feels his own eyes start to sting and he blinks back the threat of tears. He’s never been good at this vulnerability, it’s kind of kicking him in the ass.
When Mike feels composed enough to look back at Will, he’s greeted with the sight of the other boy’s own teary eyes. It makes his hazel eyes sparkle in the low lights of Mike’s room. He has the insane urge to wipe them away from his lashes. He doesn't, of course, because that would be weird. The urge remains regardless.
Will saves him from himself by being the one to wipe his own eyes, and then surprises Mike by pulling him into a hug. It’s… nice. More than that really. They’re still sitting on the bed, a little too far to make leaning in a comfortable distance. Still, Mike melts into the feeling of Will wrapping himself around him, his heart tripping in his chest so erratically that he’s certain Will can feel it too. The hug ends too soon, Will pulling himself away first, head ducked so his hair falls over his eyes more than usual. Has Mike mentioned how much his hair suits him? It’s not too different from his usual bowl-cut, just grown out. It makes his face look sharper somehow, or perhaps he just grew up without Mike realizing. Maybe they both did.
“I-um, I better go,” Will says, standing up. The bed squeaks with the loss and Mike feels the mattress shift underneath him. “It’s late,” he explains unnecessarily and Mike nods wordlessly, not trusting his voice to be steady. He gets up too, talking the short distance to the door together. Will is shorter than him but only by a little bit. Mike barely has to tilt his head down to meet his eyes. Before he goes, Will surprises him by saying, “Thank you.”
Mike blinks, “for what?”
“For being here again. And, it’s not only you, you know. I’ve been… distant,” he decides. “I’ll be here too. I promise.” His lips tilt into a pretty smile that flips Mike’s whole world before disappearing down the dark hallway, back down to the basement, leaving Mike standing at the door like an idiot. An idiot who may have just made the biggest mistake of their life.
Mike is suddenly, violently reminded of his problem, the one that started this whole sorry mess that is himself: William Byers. He avoided him for a reason after all, starting this whole trend of becoming strangers with the one person he used to know better than himself. Mike isn’t normal, hell, he’s been bullied his whole life for exactly that reason. But it goes deeper than being a geek and a weirdo as he’s been unimaginatively called; the truth is much worse than that. After over a year of avoiding Will he’s been able to half-trick himself into a delusion, and he was doing so good at it too, but after today, the gates have been opened. Mike is hopelessly in love with his best friend.
~~~
The next day isn’t any better. In fact, now that Mike is hopelessly aware of his crush, his usual mood and brood is much harder to maintain, it’s annoying, especially when Nancy shoots him a look when she lets up from the breakfast table that says, what’s up with you? He ignores her in response. He knows he’s being weird, alright. He doesn’t need a reminder.
For starters, he sat next to Will at breakfast today instead of his usual spot that he’s sat in everyday for the past seventeen years. Then, if that wasn’t out of the ordinary enough, he joined in the table chatter today, adding to the chaos that is their family meals. Mike has to admit, it was nice, even if he couldn’t stop himself from glancing Will’s way every minute. He hopes Nancy didn’t notice that as well, and if she did, hopefully she has the decency not to say anything. Mike really, truely, intends to take this crush to the grave with him, but he knows Nancy is too smart for his good.
Thankfully, when she gets up, it’s to leave for the day, not interrogate Mike.
Mike pretends not to notice Johnathans departure fifteen minutes later. The two of them spend most days together, much to Mike’s parent’s ignorance, but do a poor job of hiding it to anyone who pays attention. Honestly, he’s sure his mom has sniffed them out already, but he’s certain that their dad doesn't have a clue in the world what happens past the morning papers and his television shows. They could walk out of the house, hand in hand, and he’d still be none the wiser. Soon, the rest of the adults are done along with Will and Mike, who help them clean up. If he’s honest, Mike is much more helpful when Will’s around. His mom had said something about the Byers’ being a good influence on him, and he only rolled his eyes despite it being the truth.
Mike has always wanted to be a little more like Will. He’s full of so much good. Sometimes it makes Mike a little ill, especially because he knows he has none of it, but being around him makes him feel just a little bit… more.
Will comes up to him after they’re done cleaning up. “Hey,” he starts, “I’m heading over to volunteer at the shelter today with the Party. Do you want to come with me?” He’s nervous, and Mike gets - they haven’t done this in a long time - but Mike feels a swell of anger at himself for putting that nervousness there in the first place. Honestly, Mike hates going to the shelter, it makes him feel guilty in a way. Like he put the crack straight through Hawkins himself, so he tends to avoid it at all cost. But Will looks at him with those eyes of his and Mike has to say yes, so he does.
“Of course, I’d love to go,” with you, he doesn't say.
“Great,” Will beams at him.
Mike’s mom overhears them, adding, “That’s great boys,” then, to Mike, “I’m going to visit grandma with your dad and Holly today. We’ll be there for dinner, but there will be leftover soup in the fridge for dinner tonight.” Mike gives her a thumbs up and Will says a polite thank you, and soon, they’re off.
They’re there within the hour, Will drives them with a car Mike has never sat inside before. He misses Joyce’s old green beetle, but he supposes they either left it in California or got rid of it all together. They’re in a dark blue toyota with a broken stereo, so they drive in easy silence. Well, it seems easy on Will’s end, but it’s strangling to Mike, who just can’t stop himself from sneaking glances at the other boy. He doesn't have sunglasses, so at certain turns, Mike watches Will squint against the sun, leaning towards the steering wheel like a grandpa. Mike snorts, earning him an affronted, “shut up,” from Will, who lightly punches him in the shoulder.
Once they’re at the shelter, finding Lucas and Dustin are easy. They see Mike and Will first, cornering them at the entrance, and Mike gets the feeling that he’s walked into a trap.
“About damn time,” Dustin announces, making Will raise his eyebrow and Lucas shake his head, like Dustin went directly off whatever script they prepared. “You two finally got your shit together.” He adds by way of explanation, leaving Mike to feel very cornered now. Too late now, he guesses. He knows him and Will’s sudden distance had been noted by pretty much everyone in their lives, but Dustin and Lucas had spent the better part of the year telling Mike to fix it, rightly assuming he was at fault. He guesses that they probably harassed Will about it too because he looks entirely unsurprised and unamused by this encounter.
“So what gives?” Lucas interjects. “Are you guys finally cool again?”
Will looks Mike’s way, everything about his expression says, the floor is yours.
Mike sighs.
“Yeah, we- uh, talked. I guess.”
Lucas stares. “You talked. You guess?”
“Wow Michael, that’s a shit explanation. Thank you for that.”
Mike rolls his eyes, “Well it’s what you’re getting, now, I gotta get to volunteering. Bye.” He walks away towards the mountain of donated clothes that need washing and folding. He’s heard the guys complain most about laundry duty, which is partially why he heads over there knowing they won't follow, but Mike rather enjoys doing laundry. He likes the mindless process of washing and folding clothes and the fresh smell of the fabric afterwards. Which is good, because he’ll be spending the next few hours getting his fill of laundry because despite the amount of clothes that need attending to, there is one other lady there. An order woman that Mike thinks might have worked at the library at one point, but he can’t be certain.
He gets to work in silence, sharing a quick smile with the woman, who gets back to her business. All of the washing machines are full, so he works on folding the gigantic pile, scanning his eyes over the crowd. Dustin went over to talk to Mr. Munson and Lucas is reading a story to the kids who have been living at the shelter. Mike remembers he does the same for Max sometimes, committing to doing ridiculous voices for some of the characters. He’s making all sorts of gestures and sound effects that make the kids roar with laughter, and Mike smiles at the scene they make. He looks to his right now, finding Will at the sandwich table with Robin Buckly, who he knows as Steve and Dustin’s friend.
Mike’s never really spoken to her before, and he didn’t think Will has either, but the two of them are talking now and standing far closer than strangers or acquaintances would. Mike looks away, not liking the way his stomach twists uncomfortably. So what if Will had made a friend without telling Mike, they only just started talking again yesterday. It shouldn’t matter, but for some reason it does. Maybe it’s less about him making a friend and more about the creeping thought that slips its way into Mike’s head unwanted. They’re standing really close, elbows bumping occasionally as they talk because Robin seems to be a very animated speaker, waving her butter knife this way and that as Will laughs and smiles at whatever it is she’s saying. Mike doesn't like it. She's way older than Will, it’s weird.
He must be staring, because the woman working next to him looks over too, saying, “They’re sweet, huh?” That draws Mike’s attention away from the pair. “I always see them together whenever I volunteer. It’s the cutest,” she coos, folding another pile of clothes.
“Yeah,” Mike says flatly. “Cute.”
If he folds the next batch of clothes a bit more aggressively, that’s no one’s business but his own.
~~~
The air is freezing once they leave and Mike barely notices the ground has been speckled with a dusting of snow until he just about slips. Will attempts to steady him, but Mike evades his hands before he can touch him, leaving the other boy frowning. The drive is tense and silent the whole way. Mike refuses to even look Will’s way. Him and Robin, seriously? Mike doesn't think Will is the type to like older women, but who knows, apparently not him. For Will’s part, he keeps trying to send concerned glances Mike’s way but Mike refuses to look back, even if he can feel his stare prickling the back of his neck. Realistically speaking, he knows he’s being unfair, but the whole situation feels like a cruel warning from the universe, telling him in blinding letters that he and Will will never be anything more than friends. They’re barely even that tight now.
Will doesn't owe him anything, least of all what Mike wants. And trust him, he wants. Even now, after the universe all but laughed in his face, he still longs for the things he knows he cannot take, not from Will. Hell, not from anyone.
It’s quiet until Will breaks the silence, cursing as the car slides. Mike looks around, realizing the light snow had turned heavy somewhere along the way, causing the windshield to frost over, turning dangerously cloudy and the tires to hydroplane. “Shit, shit, shit,” Will mutters, trying to get the car under control, and Mike is suddenly very aware of the fact that the car is more than just wobbling. It’s abundantly clear that this beater isn’t fit to be driving in the snow. After what was likely a few seconds of chaos but felt much longer, the car is under control, snow is coming down heavily, and the car is thick with a different kind of tense silence now. Only then does Mike catch Will’s eyes, which are wide and worried before they go back to staring straight out the windshield. If they had left any earlier, they’d have been snowed in for sure. Mike is thankful for their timing, seeing as he’d hate to spend the night somewhere as depressing as the shelter. Where Will and Robin would be stuck together along with him, his brain unhelpfully adds.
When they park in front of the Wheeler house, Mike gets out of the car without a word. Will follows suit, equally quiet from their small panic earlier in the drive.
Mike walks up to the door briskly and realizes two things at once. One, the house is completely, utterly silent. Two, it is entirely dark inside. Will falls into step beside him, taking note of the situation himself. They share another look, wide eyed and questioning. Snow dust the top of Will’s hair and Mike tries not to notice how pretty he looks flushed from the cold. Now is not the time, they have a suspiciously empty house to deal with. Will nods and Mike unlocks the door as quietly as possible, not wanting to alert anyone that might be lurking.
Call them paranoid, but they know by now the kinds of things that can hide in the dark. Mike cast a look back at Will, thinking that he, especially, would know. Creeping quietly inside, the two of them stick close, letting their eyes adjust to the darkness of the house. It’s nearly pitch black outside, so they don’t have a lot of light to see with, but enough that they can make their way around safely. Mike leads, knowing his house the best, and Will has his back. They go to the living room first, Mike quietly taking the lamp shade off of their table lamp and wielding it as a very poor substitute for a weapon. Will blessedly doesn’t laugh, but he does shoot him an incredulous look. Mike shrugs, he’d really not like to face off a demo empty handed if it came to it. Besides, Nancy keeps all her guns locked away in her room, this is unfortunately their best substitute for a weapon.
Will picks up a broom leaning lonesome against a wall, and, okay. That might be a better idea, but Mike didn’t see it, now did he. Too late now, he’s committed to his lamp.
They walk quietly through the house. They head through the kitchen, the bathroom, open the closet door, and then upstairs. It’s then that they hear an unmistakable click, freezing them. It comes from Mike’s room. Mike turns around to look at Will, who is much closer than he thought he was. Their faces are about a foot apart, too close for Mike’s comfort. He’s glad it’s dark and Will can’t see the way his face heats up. He hopes he can’t at least. The noise comes again, startling Mike, but this time it’s followed by static.
The walkie talkie.
Wordlessly, they go in, finding the device sitting innocently on Mike’s unmade bed. Will stays by the door while Mike retrieves it, pulling the wire up and then, “Mike, is anyone there? Over.”
More static. Then a beep.
“Hi Mike,” it’s El. Will turns around at the sound of his sister’s voice, “Is Will there? Joyce, Jonathan, and Nancy are at the cabin. They’re stuck because of the snow, but safe.”
Of course, they’re probably the only ones stupid enough to have driven back in this snow. Mike looks outside and, sure enough, it’s piling up. Fast. By morning, it’ll be practically impossible to open the door in the morning, much less drive through the mess. Will seems to come to the same realization as Mike, along with the thought that there aren’t any monsters hiding - simply that no one is home, and likely won’t be.
Oh.
He and Will are going to be alone in the house until the snow clears enough for people to travel again. Who even knows when that will be.
Uh oh. Mike is suddenly hot all over with the thought and worry that comes with it.
Him and Will will be alone together.
If the universe wasn’t laughing before, now it certainly is.