Chapter Text
The Arcade was louder than usual, or maybe Will just felt it that way. Summer had a way of making everything seem turned up: the flashing lights, the tinny music spilling out of the machines, voices overlapping until there was never a real moment of silence. The heat clung to his skin even inside, mixed with the sugary smell of soda and warm plastic.
Will wasn’t playing. He leaned against one of the out-of-order machines, watching Dustin lose yet another round with an over-the-top mix of outrage and excitement, while Mike hunched over the controls of the machine next to him, way too focused for someone who claimed he was “just killing time.”
“I’m telling you, this thing’s rigged,” Dustin complained. “Nobody loses this many times in a row.”
“You say that every time,” Mike replied, not taking his eyes off the screen.
Will smiled faintly. Hawkins had been like this for weeks now. Quiet. Almost too quiet.
Vecna was gone, the gate was closed, and Max had survived the attack. She was recovering at home now, with Lucas barely letting her out of his sight—like he was too scared of losing her to look away for more than a second.
After everything, summer felt like a truce.
The Arcade door opened, and Will looked up.
They didn’t come in loudly. They didn’t draw attention right away. They didn’t do anything dramatic. Still, it was impossible not to notice them.
There were four boys, about their age, dressed differently from everyone else, without looking like they were in costume. They didn’t quite fit the place, but they didn’t look like tourists either. They were… something else.
Will watched as they stepped inside, pausing as if the place felt both familiar and strange to them at the same time.
One of them, with shoulder-length black hair and an easy smile, looked completely delighted, staring at the machines like they were newly discovered wonders, even as he moved with casual confidence. Beside him were three others: one with darker skin and wild hair sticking out in every direction, another shorter and blond, with a rounder build, and finally, the one who made something twist oddly in Will’s chest.
He was the tallest of the four, probably even taller than Mike. Thin, with a tired face despite his age, marked by scars crossing his cheek and nose. He wasn’t looking around in awe. He was looking with recognition. Like someone who had been there before—just not there. His hands were still, almost rigid, and his eyes moved slowly, taking everything in without rushing.
Will had the strange feeling of seeing himself from the outside.
This wasn’t here before, he thought.
And he didn’t mean the Arcade.
The boy looked up then, as if he’d felt Will’s gaze. Their eyes met for barely a second. There was no smile, no surprise—just a brief, heavy pause, like they’d both recognized something without a name.
Will looked away first.
“You know them?” Dustin asked, stepping closer.
Will shook his head. “No… but they’re not from around here.”
That much he was sure of.
The newcomers moved toward one of the free machines. The long-haired boy started talking excitedly, pointing at the screen, while the tallest one—the one who’d held Will’s gaze—hung back a little, watching as he fed coins into the slot. He frowned when the screen flickered but didn’t start. He tried another token. Nothing.
“Is this normal?” the blond boy asked, his accent strange but soft.
Dustin lit up immediately.
“Oh, yeah,” he said. “That one eats your quarters all the time. You gotta smack it right here.”
The boy looked surprised but nodded, stepping back to give him space.
“Thanks,” he murmured.
“I’m Dustin,” he added without missing a beat. “That’s Mike and Will.”
“Sirius,” said the black-haired boy, grinning. “And that’s James, Peter… and Remus.”
The name landed softly.
Remus.
Will looked up. Remus was staring at the blurred reflection in the machine’s glass, not at the screen—like he was searching for something beyond the game.
**********
Remus Lupin felt the weight of the place settle in his chest the moment he stepped through the door.
The noise was familiar. The lights, the music, the smell. All of it belonged to a world he had known before Hogwarts, before magic, before his life had been split into neat compartments. And yet, something was different now. An invisible distance he didn’t know how to bridge.
He didn’t quite belong. Not anymore.
Sirius and James moved through the space with an easy confidence, as though the Arcade were nothing more than the louder common room. Sirius, in particular, adapted with an ease Remus had always found faintly unfair.
Remus watched them with half-focused attention until he became aware of a steady gaze resting on him.
A boy. Brown-haired. Quiet. Watching more than participating. There was something about the way he stood there that felt unsettlingly familiar.
This isn’t a good idea, Remus thought, for no particular reason at all.
Sirius took over the conversation as though it had always been his to lead—introducing them, laughing, asking how the games worked. Remus allowed himself to be drawn towards one of the machines, observing as the boys from Hawkins responded with easy enthusiasm.
The explanations came carefully, in short exchanges of questions and answers. No one crowded anyone else’s space. The accent, inevitably, drew attention.
“You guys British?” Mike asked, blunt as ever.
“Yes,” James replied. “We’re… spending the summer here.”
The first rounds were clumsy, filled with restrained laughter and mild teasing. Nothing forced. Nothing intimate yet. Just the beginning of something.
“We usually come by early,” Dustin said in the end, gathering the tokens. “Tomorrow, if you want.”
Sirius smiled. “Tomorrow, then. If that’s all right with you.”
Will looked up. His eyes met Remus’s again. This time, neither of them looked away.
And though neither of them said it aloud, they both understood the same thing:
That summer had just begun.