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"You make me feel normal," Will says into the void of Mike's room, his voice quiet as the night outside the Wheeler house.
Mike hears him as loud as his own blood pulsing inside his skull, the heartbeat under his temples. Mike's world, turned upside down, returns to its proper position. Everything has been upside down since… Well, since Upside Down. But hearing Will's voice, and his words, and the way he said them, it feels like finding this lost piece of a puzzle you lost years ago.
Mike realizes he isn't alone now. He has never been alone, at this point. From the swings in kindergarten, to «crazy together», and until the last summer they spent together, when Mike was a total asshole. Mike is scared. He isn't a child in the swings anymore. He knows now how cruel and horrific the world can be. He has seen it, and he keeps seeing it with his own eyes. He felt all the ruthlessness of it for himself.
Mike started this conversation first, back in California. He said Will always felt different from Lucas, Dustin, Max, or even El. Hawkins felt different with Will. His own words. He spoke these words aloud, looking Will right in the eye.
Then Will began to talk, and Mike kept staring at him, adoring him in some way. Everything felt right for the first time in a long while.
Will turns his back to Mike. He has nowhere else to go to escape him. Will was supposed to sleep in the basement. But with Jonathan, spending most nights in Nancy's room, and Mike, begging his mum to let them sleep in the same room, he spends most nights in Mike's room. It was strange, awkward at first, like warm memories of the past mixed with an uncertain present. As the days passed, the tension between them eased, as if they were best friends after all, rather than complete strangers. Mike feels he is undoing their progress with every second of his silence.
Mike's eyes dart to the back of Will's head. At that moment, he notices Will trembling, and then hears a short, very quiet sob. He loses Will. Mike is losing him again.
There are no longer a thousand kilometres between them. It's one room, one bed, and Mike doesn't know how to react or what to say. Their hands are so close, he just has to reach out. Mike doesn't have a courage yet. But he might do something silly. He might hug Will, like they used to do while being kids. Mike gently presses himself against Will's back, slowly, barely touching him, wraps his arms around him, and hides his face in the curve of Will's neck. Will lets out a sharp breath.
They lie there for a minute, five, ten. Will's breathing evens out, and the warmth of his body envelops Mike so comfortably, he wanders somewhere between sleep and reality. He runs the tip of his nose over Will's skin. He smells of Mike's shower gel (not that he had another choice), and he is wearing Mike's t-shirt, and Mike catches himself thinking he finally found his home.
Will laughs and turns his face to Mike.
"What? Why are you laughing?" Mike looks at Will, confused.
"Your nose. It tickles."
Here they are again: lying face to face, Mike's arm still around Will, and the whole puzzle completed. Now it's Mike's turn to speak.
"You make me feel at home."
Will smiles at him, and Mike can't hold his own smile. He does something silly again: kisses the tip of Will's nose. Will chuckles and tucks a strand of Mike's hair behind his ear. They don't speak any more. They don't have to. They might look at each other a little more. Then Mike settles down again somewhere near Will's neck, with the feeling of hands on his back. Sleep comes to both of them in a moment or two.