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𓎢𓎟𓎟𓎟༺ 💛 ༻𓎟𓎟𓎟𓎡
Will didn’t believe in God. If God was real, then he must be a cruel deity.
Will has felt nothing but ostracised ever since he’s escaped the upside down’s grasp; him being gay certainly doesn’t help his paranoia. Him being gay for his supposed best friend definitely doesn’t help. It’s as if his own heart has a vendetta against him - every brush of the fingers, every stolen glance, every single shred of Mike’s attention has his heart going like a skipping stone.
The weird thing about this ‘crush’, is that he has no idea when it started. When he started overthinking every word exchanged between the two, looking for something in Mike’s words that indicates something mutual.
Maybe it was always there, and only just creeped up on him when Mike started dating Eleven. Oh, Eleven.
Will doesn’t have any personal hatred towards her, no, of course not. She is his sister after all. But he always wonders what life would be like if the two never started dating, if Mike had just waited a few years so that Will could realise his feelings sooner. He knows it’s selfish as El is merely a bystander, oblivious to his long-lasting feelings for Mike, but envy is apart of human nature.
.
He stares at the notepad in his lap before groaning and chucking the pen to the side. Robin had told him that writing stuff down made her feel better afterwards, but how was he supposed to translate how he felt into ink? Besides, if his mum or brother found it, he’d be screwed. If Mike found it, he’d be more than screwed.
He leans back on his bed frame and slowly glances around the room, trying to gather some inspiration. Other than his mum’s flimsy attempt at setting up Christmas lights on the door frame, nothing stuck out to him.
He closes his eyes, trying to think back to what Robin said to him.
“I don’t like letting my misery take over my mood, I like to face the problem head-on, ya know? Like, writing out my feelings and stuff helps, but it’s better to get it over with.”
He had to face the problem head-on.
His hand was reaching for the house phone before he could have a rational thought. Being straight-forward was never Will’s style, safe to say. The poor boy pined over the same person for years on end.
The ringing from the other line only drowned out his intrusive thoughts about this. It wasn’t like he was going to do anything, he was just going to talk to Mike casually, write about whatever happens, and go on with his day. Easy.
The sound of the other line picking up made his body straighten.
“Mike, hi-”
He begins before getting cut off.
“Will?”
Nancy’s voice came over the line, trying to decipher which one of Mike’s friends was calling. Let’s just say the Wheeler house had frequent callers.
“Uh, yeah.”
Will replied after a beat of silence, feeling heat rise up to his cheeks. What on earth was he even doing?
“Nice.”
Nancy replied, chuffed with herself that she guessed who was on the other line with two words.
There was a distant ‘Mike!’ in the background before faint, frantic, footsteps.
“Will?”
Mike’s voice came from the phone, out of breath.
“Yeah, uh, it’s Will.”
Hearing Mike’s voice made his ‘perfect’ idea of a plan deflate almost immediately.
“So, what’s up?”
Mike asked, making Will’s mind go haywire. What is he supposed to say to that?
‘Hey, was just trying to write down my feelings, but then started getting jealous of my sister because she goes out with you.’
“Nothing much, just… wanted to chat, I guess.”
Will responded, surprising himself at how calm his voice sounds.
“Oh, uh, really? I mean, sure, we could… chat.”
Mike muttered, a bit hesitant to the idea of casually chatting. Mike Wheeler was never one for small talk.
Mike’s hesitance was the exact thing that Will needed to make him end the conversation.
“I’m sorry, this was-”
.
“It was a stupid idea, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Will was about to put the phone down when he heard Mike’s frantic voice.
“Wait! Will, it’s fine, let’s-”
.
“Let’s chat.”
.
Chat was an understatement, they spoke for at least an hour before Karen had to use the house phone to call her friends. They talked about a multitude of things, what Will had missed when he was holed up in his room, Max’s condition, how they watched Vecna fry into a crisp. Or, at least - they imagined how he fried into a crisp.
It was the first time in years that Mike and Will had felt like best friends, speaking so casually to each other that you’d think the upside down never existed.
When he finally put the phone down, he turned around to see Joyce standing a few feet away from him. She was smiling, in such a way that Will couldn’t figure out her reasoning behind it.
Surely, she couldn’t know.
“I see you and Mike have become closer again, it’s nice to see.”
She sighs, relishing in the memories of the two before everything went to hell.
“Really nice to see.”
She says before walking off, arms folded.
Will was still buzzing from excitement from the call, but he couldn’t help the overwhelming thought of his stupid crush ruining everything.
Maybe it would be better if Mike didn’t call in the future.
So Will doesn’t have a heart attack.
Merry Christmas, Please Don’t Call.