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Will opens his eyes to blurring shapes. He tries to focus on any object, but his head is spinning too much and his lids are too heavy to see anything, aside from vague lights dancing around, making his temples sting with sharp pain. One thing he’s able to gather is being located at the radio station. He feels a shudder going through his body and he hates the feeling, because *he* likes it cold. It’s weird, because the air doesn’t seem to be chilly, and he can sense the weight of a thick blanket wrapped around him. The cold is an odd feeling coming from within his body.
He registers movement in his peripherals. Mike - his first thought.
He isn’t wrong.
“Will!” he yells immediately; there’s an awful amount of anxiety in his voice. “Will! You’re awake.”
He drops to the floor right next to him, hands shooting out to squeeze his shoulders. “Can you hear me?”
Will blinks, struggling to bring Mike’s face hovering above him into focus, and gives a weak nod.
“Okay. How are you feeling? Does your head hurt?” Mikes eyes chaotically scan him.
There’s too many questions at once, especially when Will can barely make out any words reaching him.
“Alright- sorry, too many questions,” Mike follows, and starts speaking much more slowly. “God, I… I was so scared, and- Do you need water?”
Will swallows and slowly reaches for Mike’s forearm, gently pulling the material of his pullover to draw his attention and cut off his rambling. He can see the expression on his face get gradually clearer, dark eyes lost, skimming his face in worry, eyebrows pulled together and forming a crease he wants to smooth out with his thumb, but can’t find enough energy to do it.
“You’re safe,” is the only thing that he says, because it’s the only thing that matters. Mike is here. Safe.
He watches the crease between his brows deepen and his gaze light up with confusion, at first, only to be quickly replaced with fondness at the words.
“You’re impossible,” he laughs, the sound brief and quiet, and there’s so much relief in it.
Will smiles, because there’s nothing that matters more in this moment. He’ll be okay. So far, he successfully protected his friends, and most importantly, his best friend, who is sitting here, glad and caring. Will loves to have that Mike back. The one who is always there, always close, always looks out for him - not because he thinks Will’s fragile, but because he cares. He loves it’s all back to the way it was before. Except, it’s different. It’s been different for a while now, and not because things have changed in general, and because they’ve grown up. Different as in the dynamics between them. Will can obviously tell that something in Mike has switched. He’s spent too much time looking for answers himself to not recognize it in Mike. It’s like Mike started asking questions he ignored before. Will sees a lot more than he admits, but he respects Mike is going through his own journey at his own pace. Besides, he knows what Robin said was true - *you* have all the answers. Will’s found them, at least some of them.
The headache is awful, though, and he needs rest. He’ll have plenty of time to think through everything that’s new.
He has no control when his eyes close on their own. He only hears his mother’s muffled voice approaching and Mike’s responding with something just as unclear, as he drifts back to sleep.
When he wakes up again, Mike is still there. He sits right beside his head, back pressed against the wall. It takes a minute for Will to realize the back of his head is pillowed on his tight.
“Hi,” he says with coarse voice. “Where are the others?”
“Hi. Your mom fell asleep, like, half an hour ago,” Mike responds. “The others, uh, they came here to check, but we didn’t want to wake you up, so they’re in some other room, maybe dozing off themselves.”
“How long…?
“You were sleeping for about… 6 hours? I don’t know exactly, I haven’t been tracking time, honestly.” Mike looks tired, too. Has he been sitting here the entire time? As much as Will does not want it to be true, he has a feeling that Mike did not close an eye.
“You have to rest, too, Mike,” he says, worried, as he wonders how long Mike’s been awake, and how everything that happened must’ve incredibly drained him.
“Yeah, well… Let’s make sure you’re okay first, alright? You scared me to death, after you just collapsed there,” he replies a bit absentmindedly. Will gets it, how he’s been unable to even nap for a moment, because if it were him, with Mike lying unconscious after having somehow been endowed with powers and having rescued him, he wouldn’t be able to sleep, too. “Do you think you could sit?” he asks, gently rubbing his shoulder, as he looks down to his face. Will tries to not think about how tender the little touch is, because, jeez, now is not the time.
Will nods his head and tries to tentatively get up with Mike’s hand on his back stabilizing him. He feels a subtle spin in his head, but it ceases as soon as he stills and leans his back against the wall. Mike gives him a slight tap, signaling him to tilt forward so he can pull the blanket back over his shoulders. He looks at Will with an inscrutable expression that he’s too tired to try to decipher.
Mike drops his gaze. “I’ll make some tea to warm you up,” he declares before getting to his feet and heading toward the radio station’s kitchen.
The lights in the room are dull. Will takes a look around; it’s probably some sort of a storage room with all the boxes and different tools scattered everywhere. It comes to his notice that he is sitting on a mattress - or what passes for one, given how thin it is. It’s still a better option than the floor to sleep on.
God, everything seems surreal and he still feels high, because that’s the only way to describe it. Even though, out of all the odd things that have happened, he thinks Mike is the weirdest, as of now. Sure, he’s just seen his best friend defeat three Demogorgons with his mind, but there’s something more, Will can tell.
“Hey.” Will jumps at the voice and snaps his head toward the door. It’s Robin. And Will feels the corners of his lips tugging upward, as he responds with a short, “Hi.”
Robin walks up closer and sits next to him. “I came to check, ‘cause I saw Mike leaving,” she says, glancing at him, “Jeez, he wouldn’t let anyone, besides your mom, come in here ‘to not wake you up’. I probably have, like, two minutes before he kicks me out again,” she laughs.
Will knits his eyebrows and snorts, “You’re shitting me.” Mike is so stupid.
“I’m totally not!” Robin taps him on the shoulder, amused. “I mean, you should’ve seen his face when we got here,” she teases.
“Oh my god,” he mutters, still giggling. He covers his face, though, feeling heat pricking at his cheeks.
“Not to be, you know, nosy, but I think that… the snowball might’ve become an avalanche.” She jostles his shoulder, and he shoves her back, a smile on his face. They start cackling again like a pair of idiots.
“I see you’re feeling better,” Mike notes, as he comes back into the room with two steaming mugs. They both turn their heads to look at him. And has Will gone completely crazy? Because he sounds almost… jealous.
And suddenly he connects the dots. Mike was, in fact, acting weird about Robin before, but from Will’s perspective it was so absurd that he never even considered the possibility of Mike being jealous of their relationship. But Mike didn’t know *things*…
Will sends the girl a quick glance when Mike isn’t looking, busy setting the tea down without spilling it. Robin only responds with a nod and a quirk of her eyebrows that says, *told you.*
Mike sits down right next to Will and fixes the blanket on his shoulders that doesn’t need fixing. Robin takes that as a sign to leave, throwing out something about how she’s hungry. Will doesn’t miss the side-eye she gives the situation.
There’s a brief silence between them.
“So… you guys get along quite well, huh?,” Mike tries to sound as unbothered and cool as he can, and it takes everything for Will to not burst out laughing. Aside from being confused and flustered, he’s also incredibly amused.
“Yeah, I guess,” he only responds, because what else is he supposed to say. But when he turns to look at Mike’s face, he looks like a puppy that’s been scolded by its owner. And he doesn’t have a heart to just leave him with that, so he adds, “As friends.”
Mike glances at him briefly, like he’s not convinced. He nods, but he looks like he’s gonna die, if he doesn’t ask, “How did you guys even become so close?”
“Uh, you know, I don’t even know,” he tries. God, how to explain it to Mike without outing Robin *and* himself at one blow. “We- She gave me some advice.”
“Advice?’” Mike repeats, rising one eyebrow.
“You know…” and Will knows Mike *does’t know*. Well, fuck. “Listen, Mike, we’re *friends,”* he emphasizes.
Mike looks away, subtle blush appearing on his cheeks. He’s probably realized how obvious he was with the questions.
“Cool.”
Yeah, cool. What is it even all about, Mike?
“It was super cool,” Mike changes the topic. “Like… except I- we were worried for you. But that was fucking… marvelous, I don’t know, I don’t even have words for that. How did you even do that? I mean, how did it feel? What happened?”
Will looks away. “I mean, when I saw that thing going for you… I found it in me to-” he breaks off. “Like, some memories flickered through my mind, and before I knew, it was just happening,” he explains.
Mike seems to give some thought to it. “What kind of memories?”
“Good ones. Maybe the best.”
“Was… I there? In those memories?” Mike asks hesitantly.
And Will smiles at him, “Of course you were, dip.”
He watches as dark eyes glimmer with mirth. Damn, Mike Wheeler is cute. His sharp features are softened a little by the warm lighting, curls tousled, probably from being soaked earlier. Will can’t deny that he likes the messy look.
Will puts his head on Mike’s shoulder, catching how he holds his breath for a second or two. If he had any doubts before, it would be stupid to still believe Mike doesn’t feel anything for him after today. It stirs mixed feelings in Will. As much as he loves this boy — has loved for as long as he can remember — he can’t forget all the months Mike barely reached out, the day he couldn’t give him a simple hug, after Will had spent months missing him.
He’s surely seen all the little signs and hints in Mike’s interactions with him — that’s exactly why he asked Robin about it — but he can’t shake off the feeling that it’s nothing real *real* for Mike, when it’s everything for him. His love for Mike has been an ache he’s been carrying for years.
“Hey, you okay?” he hears Mike’s voice above his ear. “You seem to be tired. You wanna go to sleep?”
“No!” Will raises his head rapidly. “I mean, yeah, in a bit, but not now.”
“Oh, okay.”
Mike hands him one cup, and Will is, in fact, too tired to realize he’s just staring at the tea instead of drinking it. There’s too much going on in his head right now.
“Okay, what is it, Will?” Mike tries again.
“What?” he looks Mike in the eyes.
“Come on, what’s going on?”
“I- Don’t get me wrong, but…” Will struggles to find the words to put it, staring continuously at the mug. “Fuck, sorry, I can’t…”
Mike frowns in concern, “You can’t talk to me?”
Will wants to talk, but he’s afraid. Even if Mike reciprocates his feelings, he might not realize that they’re *like that*. He might not be comfortable with them. He doesn’t want to ruin what they’ve rebuilt, and if he confesses, there’s no turning back. But the need to finally get explanation outweighs the fears.
“It’s not it… It’s just- what’s the deal, Mike?” it comes off a bit harsher than he intended. Surprise flashes across the other’s face at the sudden intensity. “First you act like you don’t even wanna be friends anymore, like it’s a burden to you. Then you act like everything is fine. And then… then like *this*.”
“I…” Mike seems to have no words left. “Listen, Will, I know I was a total jerk to you, and… like, there’s nothing that could explain that, but…”
“I get that you had a girlfriend and that you cared about her the most. I get it,” Will cuts in.
Mike looks hurt at these words, but Will continues, because he’s sick of leaving everything unspoken. “I spent these months we were apart missing you everyday, Mike. I- You seemed to just have gotten over our friendship, like you forgot everything we’ve been through together.”
And, shit, Will feels his eyes start to sting from tears. The expression that briefly appears on Mike’s face when he notices — like he immediately wants to reach out and soothe him — makes Will want to end it here and not say anything more. But he’s so fed up with it.
“Will, I understand, but… I was confused, like, immensely.”
“You were confused?” Will scoffs, because he’s tired and he’s had enough of that bullshit.
“Yeah! First, El tells me about you making a painting for someone, I see you at the airport holding the supposed painting, then you tell me she commissioned, and… Look, I couldn’t understand why you lied about the painting.”
“Why would you care about a paining, if you didn’t even care to reach out?”
“But, Will, why did you lie?”
“I thought you would hate the truth and we’d just talked things through, and I didn’t want it to go back to the same point, if not worse.”
“But- I confessed to El because of what you told me!” Mike says exasperatedly.
“Yeah and that saved her.”
“That’s not the point! I… lied to her, I lied to myself, I lied to you because of it!” Mike exhales shakily, as if he’s fighting tears from going down his cheeks, too. “I…” his voice cracks, and…
*Oh.*
“I never loved El like that- I mean, I love her, but… I was never i*n love* with her,” Mike confesses, a defeated look on his face.
They both cry now.
“I just wish I could understand…” he murmurs, barely audible, muffled by a pent-up sob.
“Mike…” Will whispers, as his hear cracks in two. He cups bony cheeks with his hands, gently skimming the skin under dark eyes now staring into him with his thumbs.
“Why…? Why didn’t you tell me the truth?” he asks faintly, even knowing the reason well. It sounds more like a regret.
“I’ve been trying for years, Mike,” he says quietly. “Besides, I couldn’t do that to El.”
Mike still looks at him, hurting, but still gets closer with every word they whisper. Will’s eyes flicker between his.
“I’ve wanted you to know so bad…” his voice is almost inaudible with a sob tightening around his throat.
Then there’s no distance between them anymore. Their lips link in a gentle kiss, brushing against each other slowly. The kiss is bitter and sweet, carrying more understanding than in any words could. Time slows down as their fingers tangle into each other’s hair, tracing and savoring the gentle touch.
They finally break, still bumping their noses and foreheads together.
“I wrote you letters,” Mike says.
“What?”
“I wrote you dozens of letters. I just wasn’t brave enough to send them.”
Will is speechless. Mike missed him over all these months.
“You know how El was upset I always ended the letters to her with ‘from Mike’, and never even said ‘Love, Mike’?” he recalls, and Will stares at his dark lashes fluttering as he looks down. “That’s because all of my letters to you ended with that.”
And Will can’t breathe.
“I… I just wish it had all been different,” Mike sobs.
“I know. I know…” Will comforts, delicately rubbing his cheeks.
Their lips link once again, this time moving more harshly. It’s wet and salty from the tears and they are angry and wistful, because it could’ve been so different. Everything in every move, every touch is pure longing and no matter how close they are the distance feels too much.
There’s so much passion in every brush of skin against skin; the way Mike’s restless hands wander to Will’s chest, and to his neck right after, only to find their way to his jaw. Will tilts his head a little more at that, deepening the kiss. They can’t seem to pull away from each other. There are only small breaks in between — for catching air, or a shaky laugh.
Will feels Mike’s uneven breathing, hot against his skin. He is way too receptive of the way Mike’s breath hitches, as he very slightly tugs on a fistful of dark curls. Mike grips the material of the fabric of the T-shirt at Will’s back, a small sigh escaping his lips. Wow.
They finally break, gasping, their eyes locked. Will lets his head fall onto Mike’s chest. It’s happening, right? He’s not dreaming. He feels the weight of Mike’s hand settle at the back of his head — a quiet reassurance.
“I missed you,” Will whispers.
“I missed you, too.”