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Mike was pacing again. His head was aching and there was this… this ringing in his ears that just wouldn’t go away. He dug his nails into his palms. With a humorless laugh, he realized that he hadn’t slept in over 48 hours.
Mike stood outside a room in Hawkins Lab, in which their group was waiting for the deprivation tank to fill up. This twisted Upside Down version of the lab reminded Mike of some villain's lair, like the Hall of Doom or something. To make matters worse, the energy between that group was nothing short of high-strung. Mike had had enough after fifteen tense minutes of Kali, like, staring into his soul or something.
Everything was piling up and he’d felt like he was going to explode. So he’d rushed out, saying he’d needed some air, and, armed with a shotgun he had no idea how to use, and positioned himself in the hall. It was so dark in the Upside Down. Mike could feel the chill all the way down to his bones.
They’d killed so many people to get through the MAC-Z gate. Once the novelty of that wore off, Mike just felt shitty.
Their plan was volatile. It was finicky, messy, and worst of all, it was a first draft. Mike hated first drafts. One wrong move and they were all dead. Holly was-
“Hey,” a voice stirred Mike from his thoughts. His head snapped up to see his best friend smiling sheepishly near the door, holding two cokes.
His best friend, who just hours before had faced twelve people and said four words which kind of exploded Mike’s entire life.
The same four words Mike had been too afraid to whisper to himself in front of the bathroom mirror for years. Until El had broken up with Mike, months ago, Mike hadn’t stopped denying it. He hadn’t stopped wishing that something in him would change, that a switch would suddenly flip and he’d be normal. Whatever normal was.
When Will had confessed, a choked “I don’t like girls,” Mike’s heart had stopped beating for a moment. He'd felt his jaw go slack, eyes dropping to the ground before landing back on Will.
Oh.
It’s not my fault you don’t-
Mike’s head must not have been working properly, because all he could focus on was Will and the way his eyebrows drew up how they did when he was overwhelmed had so much to say but wasn’t sure how how to verbalize how he was feeling at all, and- and-
Will looked so nervous, he was shaking, begging his friends not to turn away from him. He didn’t seem prepared, or, most importantly, ready. Mike knew Will. He wouldn’t share something like this so quickly, with so many people, not unless he needed to.
Mike froze when Will mentioned a person, a crush. Will’s face, his resolute, shaky tone and the way his eyes kept landing on everyone in the room but flickered hastily away from Mike as he said “even though I know they’re not like me,” made Mike’s vision go blurry for a second.
This couldn’t be real.
Was it- could it be-
Mike could barely think about it without crushing anxiety curling in his stomach, heart pounding in his head. His consciousness was immediately attacked with moments, memories:
His fight with Will in the rain, Will’s face in Lenora when Mike had snapped, “we’re friends, we’re friends,” Will’s words in the van, his painting, the way he’d turned away from Mike.
The last year and a half, the way Will was always there, reading comics over his shoulder and passing him the syrup. The way they’d sometimes stay up late in Mike’s room, talking like they used to, even after Will got banished to sleep in the basement by Mike’s father. The way Will laughed at Mike’s jokes in particular, or how they’d play video games on the couch for hours, kind of leaning into each other. The way Will got flustered when Mike complimented his art. The little touches, shoulders, hands, arms. The too-long looks. The reassurances.
Will's face in the field, his little shove.
Maybe, then. Maybe.
But Will had said had. He had a crush. Did that mean he was over it? Did that mean that Mike was too late?
Will continued, explaining how it was all just about him, not this crush, and Mike’s heart dropped even further, hit with disappointment and regret and confusion at what exactly a “Tammy” was. This, mixed with an unmatched pride because Will was so goddamn brave.
Mike wanted to be that brave.
Despite this, Will looked so alone in that moment too, and all Mike wanted to do was rush forward and throw his arms around him like he had just a day before at the MAC-Z. After Will had saved his life and looked so damn good doing it. But he couldn’t.
Will was sitting there, saying the impossible out loud, and all Mike could do was stare.
What if everyone turns away?
But then Lucas and Dustin had stood to reassure Will, and warmth and relief had surged through Mike’s chest.
They don’t care. It’s okay, they're okay with it.
Maybe they’d also be okay with…
With me.
Mike finally murmured “or me,” trying to set his face as firm as possible to hide the fact that he very much wanted to cry, and joined the hug. But he didn’t melt into it; he caught Will’s eyes, teary and shining, from between the heads of his friends. Mike went breathless.
Will stood before him now, looking stupidly good in his light-washed red hoodie and vest.
“Hi,” Mike breathed, loosening his grip on his gun. “Hi, Will.”
“Uh… I brought you a Coke. I packed a couple when we were leaving.” Will held out the can. “Thought you might need the caffeine.”
“Thanks man.” Mike smiled gratefully and took the drink, popping the tab and taking a sip. The cold fizz eased his racing mind for a moment.
Will’s expressions dropped a little, and Mike shifted a little.
“Is it… bad?” Mike said abruptly.
“What?” Will furrowed his brow.
“Being back here.” Mike waved his hand a little.
Will shrugged. “Yeah. It’s pretty bad. But, y’know, this is bigger than me. We’re saving Holly. Saving the world.”
Mike swallowed. “That doesn’t make what you went through less bad,” he said quietly. “It doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to feel…” he trailed off.
“Scared,” Will finished for him. “I feel scared.” Mike watched his mouth twitch like he wanted to say something but thought better of it. Instead, he said: “Being the spy again- it was terrifying, invasive." His face twisted. “I never want to feel like that again. But it’s like I can’t trust myself, like I’m… going crazy.”
“Crazy…” Mike murmured.
“What?”
Mike cleared his throat. “Do you remember that Halloween, back in eighth grade? When you said you were going crazy, and I-”
“-said we’ll go crazy together?” Will finished softly.
Mike’s heart skipped a beat. “You remember.”
“Of course, Mike.” Will laughed a little, an infectious smile cutting across his face. He was so- so- “How could I forget?”
Mike inhaled, warmth spreading through his chest. “Well, I kinda feel like I’m going crazy again. I feel like I have been for years honestly, but it’s all accumulating now for, uh, obvious reasons and it’s like- my sister fell from the sky, and then got pulled back up and that sounds insane but- I’m so tired I can’t think and it’s like I’m- I’m-” he stopped and took another breath. “Sorry.”
“No, don’t be.” Will said quietly. “This is all insane. It’s so unfair.” He reached out towards Mike, but his hand stopped midair and his expression changed, twisted. He pulled his hand back, eyes wide.
“Hey, Will, what you told everyone earlier-” Mike started.
Will’s eyes snapped away from Mike’s face. “You don’t have to say anything, I just needed to get it out there, as, like, a failsafe. I’m not looking for pity.” The last words were bitter.
Mike blinked. “I’m not-” his expression softened. “I don't pity you, Will.”
Tell him. Tell him you’re-
“Okay.” Will said timidly.
“Yeah. Um, can I ask what the fuck a “Tammy” is then?” Mike tried to lighten the mood.
Will cracked a small smile. “Long story. I’d have to out someone if I told you, and I-” his eyes went wide and he slapped a hand over his face. “Forget I said that.”
Mike’s heart started racing a little. “There’re more… people like you in Hawkins?” he breathed, then cringed. “Sorry, that was phrased, um, not great.”
Will looked… confused. “It’s fine. Um. Yeah. There are more, um…”
“People who don’t like girls?” Mike tried quickly. The words felt like fire leaving his mouth.
“Well, gay people,” Will said finally, voice quiet. “Yeah.”
The word made Mike’s chest twinge. He’d never said it out loud before, but it'd been thrown around as an insult all his life. Yet, coming from Will, it didn’t sound harsh or mean. It was just an adjective. “Cool,” Mike said, instead of something meaningful. Good going, Wheeler. And then, like an idiot. “Well, who is your Tammy?” He cleared his throat. “Sorry. Was.”
Will flinched. “Point blank, huh Mike?” he said humorlessly. He wouldn’t meet Mike’s eye.
Mike cringed again. “Sorry.” He was fucking all of this up.
Will shook his head. “It’s fine. It’s irrelevant, who they are. I already told you. They’re normal, it’ll never happen.” He stubbed the toe of his sneaker against the title.
Hope twinged in Mike’s chest. “So you still…”
“They’re not like me.” Will said firmly. “So how I feel, or still feel, doesn’t matter.”
“It matters.” Mike said, quietly, hope now a full blown forest fire racing through his body. “And how do you know that?” Mike swallowed. Fuck, dude. You’re a mess. “That he’s not, um. Different.”
Will just looked a little stunned. “He’s just not. Look, Mike, why do you care?”
“We’ve just never really gotten to talk to each other about this sort of thing before,” Mike bullshitted, “And I just thought, y’know, since you finally had- have a crush, maybe you’d want to talk about it?”
Will scrubbed a hand across his forehead. “Right. Um. He’s great, I mean. Incredible, actually. He understands stuff, stuff that nobody else does. He’s the only person who’s ever made me feel okay in my skin and I just-” he cut himself off.
Mike’s heart almost stopped beating. Maybe he wasn’t crazy. Mike wouldn’t be able to stand it if Will was talking about anyone else.
“Anyways. Focusing on him, when it’s hopeless- it’ll just make me feel like shit. I mean, after everything, it’s just me, y’know?” Will said softly. “Just me.”
Mike felt like he was engaged in a wrestling match against his conscience. He kept saying stupid shit. “Yeah, but it doesn’t have to be.” He reached out a hand, suddenly confident, and gently cupped Will’s shoulder. “Why should you be alone? Just because you’re… “ he took a deep, trembling breath. “...gay?” The word took effort to say, and he felt like he’d run a marathon once it’d left his mouth, his heart beating too fast.
Will stared and stared. “I…” his gaze flickered to the ground. “Because. He’s the only one.”
“The only one?”
“He’s the only person I’ve ever…” he squeezed his eyes shut. He was crying a little. “Been in love with.”
Mike’s heart pounded in his head. He’s in love? With this boy who could maybe, possibly, probably be Mike? He’s in love, he’s in love.
“He’s the only person I ever want to be in love with. So I- I have to start being okay with the fact that…” Will’s breath trembled, he wiped the tears from his eyes. “That he doesn’t love…love me… back.” His voice was wet, choking on his words.
Mike surged forward to wrap him in a tight embrace. Will froze, before relaxing into it, wrapping his arms around Mike, still swallowing back quiet sobs. Their Cokes lay long forgotten on the ground somewhere.
“You don’t know that,” Mike said. This was risky. So fucking risky.
“I do.” Will sniffed.
“You literally do not.”
“What do you even mean, Mike?” Will’s voice cracked, pulling away from the embrace. His face was wet with tears, hair messy. “I don’t understand what you’re trying to say!” He was angry.
“I’m trying to say that I’ve never told you that.” Mike said, and the world imploded.
Not really, it just totally felt like it.
“Fuck,” Mike breathed out. Will stared.
And stared.
And kept staring.
“Hey, are you-”
“Are you messing with me?” Will sounded very small.
That was it.
Mike shook his head. “No,” he breathed. “The painting. It was um, from you, right? Not commissioned?”
Will looked down. “I’m sorry- I-”
“Don’t apologize, Will, I-”
“I lied to you, Mike.”
“For good reason!” Mike said quickly. He’d been hurt at the time, when El had, eventually, asked what painting. He’d been angry. But he knew why now. “Everything you said, about- about-” he felt himself getting shy. It was like his confidence had run out. “-needing me? It was…”
“From me.” Will nodded, wiping the tears from his face. “All of it.” He screwed up his face. “Mike, can you um, be a little more clear about what you mean by you not… telling me…?”
“I don’t want to be your Tammy.” Mike said immediately. “I’ve been so scared for so long, Will, but seeing you today, talking about being different- you shouldn't have had to do that. Not if you weren’t ready. But… It made me less scared.” He took a breath, he could feel the urge to cry scratching at his throat. He hadn’t cried at all over the last few days. Not about his mom, not about Holly. But now- it was like it was all bubbling over. “You made me realize that sometimes it’s worth doing scary things. Even if it feels like it’s gonna be scary forever.”
Will laughed tearily. “It probably is.”
Mike smiled a big smile, blinking away his own tears. “That’s okay. Do you think we could… work together, then? Against that fear.” He swallowed. “Because there's a lot of it.”
“As a team?” Will asked hopefully.
“Something like that.” Mike nodded.
“Yeah.” Will nodded happily, tears streaming freely down his face now, like he couldn’t bother wiping them away. “Always, Mike.”
That’s what did it. Mike reached out and placed a palm on Will’s cheek. Will inhaled.
“I’m sorry. I was such an asshole today, after you told everyone, but I was so scared, I- I should’ve been the first person to you.” Mike made a face. “Lucas and Dustin were before me. Can you believe that?”
Will grinned and shook his head. “Stop apologizing, Mike, because I’m not sorry.” He said. They were so close, Mike could feel Will’s breath on his nose. “Not now.”
“Can I kiss you?” Mike breathed.
Will looked, for a moment, like he’d been told he’d won a billion dollar jackpot. Stunned. Ridiculously happy. Then he started to cry again.
“Oh, Will, I didn’t mean-”
“Good tears, Mike.” Will reassured him, and then surged forward.
Will kissed him like it was the end of the world. And it basically was, so Mike wasn’t complaining.
Just a mindless, messy brush of lips and Mike immediately knew.
It had never been like this with El.
It felt so right, Mike could never understand how something like this, something so right and good, could be deemed so wrong.
How could this be sinful when Mike, for the first time in his life, was breathing freely? The tightness in his chest had loosened, the way it always did around Will, but this time it kept loosening, unspooling like thread, until it was barely recognizable.
Will’s hands fluttered up to Mike’s face as the kiss slowed, holding him gently in a way Mike had never been held before. Like he was special. Like he meant something.
Mike sort of wanted to cry again.
They parted, both breathing heavily.
“That was my first kiss, y’know that?” Will said quietly, smiling. His eyes were wet, but sparkled with excitement, and goddammit he was gorgeous.
Mike felt sort of awed. “Was it good?”
Will smiled, this big smile, and nodded. “Yeah Mike. Better than good.”
“Cool,” Mike breathed dumbly. “Because I like you. A lot. If that wasn’t very clear.”
“Cool.” Will giggled.
“Super cool.” Mike knew he sounded like an idiot, but he couldn’t care less.
A look of realization swept over Will’s face. “You’re my Vickie,” he whispered.
“What?” Mike said, confused.
Will just laughed and kissed him again.
And for the first time in a long, long time, Mike was scared of the monsters that lay between them and the light of another day, but not of himself.