Work Text:
Grasping at his chest and scrunching up his sweat-soaked shirt in the process, Mike desperately tries to gain any air into his lungs that isn’t through short and panicked breaths that do him no good.
He couldn’t process any of this.
His brain wasn’t functioning correctly, causing him to shoot up from his sleep in a cold sweat, and now as he sat alone in the bathroom of the radio station, the dim light doing minimum work to illuminate the room, he couldn’t contain any of his emotions he’s been bottling up.
His parents almost died, his little sister is missing, and his older sister is too focused on when she can get more bullets for her gun contraptions to pay any attention to him; not that she has been after they sat and argued in the hospital lobby the night everything happened.
His friends had minor injuries from the previous night and his own head ached with soreness from being thrown on the ground during the MAC-Z fight, the bruises purple and dizzying.
He felt like he was suffocating in the small bathroom, the tiles closing in on him and the floor shifting left and right underneath him like a ship on the rough waves, his mind not clear and his throat filled with rising bile as he swallowed repeatedly.
He felt nauseous and tears pricked at the corner of his eyes, burring his vision and muffling his hearing so the only sounds were his racing heartbeat and his rapid breaths that sounded more like strained wheezes.
El was with Hopper in the upside down somewhere, hopefully safe.
Mike felt like a douche for breaking up with her 6 months ago.
Trying to balance a relationship and the end of the world on both hands isn’t a job made for Mike Wheeler, and he failed miserably. They were on good terms now, but he still feels like he was just a downright bad friend to her.
Who he really feels guilty about is Will.
Will saved him and Lucas and Robin from those demogorgans last night, and Mike couldn’t be more prouder.
He was proud Will accomplished something so difficult and channeled his true inner self.
He was proud Will realized how strong he really is.
He was proud Will was Will.
Will.
His heart slowed, his breaths fading away to even inhales and his eyes drying.
Will, who always made him drawings of their D&D characters when they were little for campaigns.
Will, who never judged anyone’s feelings no matter the context or situation, just sat there and listened and offered comfort afterwards or distance if requested.
Will, whose outgrown haircut ruffled up in funny ways when he first rolls out of bed.
Will, who has the sweetest soul but strongest hands that can hug but also fight.
Will; his best friend.
Oh.
Oh.
Mikes heart panged with so many emotions he couldn’t name all of them if he had to make a list on paper.
A stronger one above all made it clear in his head how powerful it was by appearing as a flash of visions of bunny teeth, soft laughter, kind eyes and a sharp jawline.
Will filled his visions because Mike was in love with him.
He closed his eyes, focusing on the cool floor beneath him as he ran his fingertips slowly over the chipped and worn tile to ground himself. He inhaled deeply, smelling the shampoo he used a few hours ago before everyone turned in for the night. He listened to the sound of his controlled breathing and the sink that never seemed to stop dripping slow, soft drips from the faucet.
He was too focused on relaxing his aching body and coming to terms with this sudden realization that he didn’t hear the quiet knock that rapped on the door.
Someone turned the knob, pushing it forward and Mikes eyes shot open, scares to who it might be that would see him in this vulnerable state.
“Mike?” Will whispered.
Mike exhaled in relief. But he also blushed under the singular light bulb above their heads that Will hopefully mistook for lack of sleep.
“Sorry,” He immediately apologized, not really knowing what else to say in the moment. “Couldn’t sleep.”
Will shut the door behind him and sat on the floor across from Mike, back rested against the wood. He looked really pretty right now to Mike, even more than he usually does and he probably just rolled out of bed. Why was he up as well anyway?
“You’re crying,” Will stated solemnly, like it was the most devastating and heartbreaking news in the world. He pulled his long sleeve over his hand and reached over to gently wipe the wetness off of Mike cheeks and eyebags, offering him a small smile afterwards.
Mike returned it, heart beating quicker in a different way now.
“Is everything okay?” Will asked, voice low and cautious. Mike adored how Will never raised his voice or scoffed when Mike was upset unlike his dad did. He’s been told to man up more than a hundred times in his life due to being super emotional when he was younger, especially around when Will was gone.
He turned his emotions off for a few years but realized the people he surrounded himself with don’t care about any of that, and encouraged him to open up more so he wasn’t damaging his health any more than it is.
“Yeah,” He swallowed, nausea passed and was replaced with a sense of warmth and comfort. He blames it on Wills dashingly charming smile and hazel-green eyes that belong in a museum of gorgeous color combinations. Mike would like to be the only one allowed in however.
“Just… thinking.”
“Okay,” Will nodded. “Would you like to join me on the mattress?” He inquired. Mikes resting spot for whoever knows how long is the couch, and that thing is better for chilling midday than sleeping several hours each night, meanwhile Will and the rest of the gang who was sleeping at the radio station got mattresses they dragged from a storage room along with blankets and pillows. Mikes blanket is scratchy and his pillow was too hard to get a good angle for his neck so he didn’t wake up sore and hurt.
He would be crazy to pass this up.
“I’d like that,” Mikes voice went quiet and he could tell Will opened his mouth to ask what he said again but Mike repeated it louder before he could.
“Come on Mike,” Will stood, smiling as he held his hand out in help. Mike took it, favoring the feel of his calloused palms and soft but fierce knuckles, nails a little chewed up from anxiety.
Will kept their finger interlocked the whole walk back to where Wills mattress is, guiding Mike down in the dark and under the big comforter blanket.
“Will?” Mike whispered as their shoulders knocked together, their thighs pressed warmly like they were meant to be like that, all warm and close. They were facing each other, Mikes head tucked snug under Wills chin and smelled Wills shampoo, his arms wrapped around Wills back like if he let go the world would actually end.
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
A beat of silence.
“You’re welcome, Mike.”
Mike smiled even though Will couldn’t see it. With how close they were laying he wouldn’t be surprised if Will felt it more than saw it.
“Goodnight Will,” Mike said, yawning.
“Goodnight Mike,” Will replied.
And if Mike sleepily mumbled a “love you” before drifting off beside Wills radiating body heat he craved to scoot closer to, then well, that was his business.
And maybe Wills if he heard him.
Mike kinda hopes he did.