Chapter Text
The black couch is heavy with the weight of the three boys and their individual emotions. El and Max gaze over at each other with confused, trembling worry in their eyes. Joyce resists the insatiably strong urge to hug her youngest and ask him if he needs a box of tissues, and when she looks in Johnathan’s direction, she knows he’s thinking the exact same thing. The air holds more than just the subtle fall chill, it holds tension, and it carries it with an iron fist.
Mike sits still in his seat, but he can feel the room shaking in sync with him. He hurts with how much he keeps jumping to conclusions on what Will needs to confess. What he is most guilty about is that all the outcomes involve himself somehow. “Self-absorbed prick.” He thinks with shame pooling in his gut.
The mutual silence and concerned glimpses from the seven other people in the room communicates that they all know there’s a ticking time bomb seconds away from going off in Will’s mind. His left leg bounces up and down at an alarming speed, the dig of his nails into his own arm, the way he stares at the tiled floor with such pure, burning cold fear could turn the sun to ice.
The boy flinches when his mothers hand finds its way onto his knee, their eyes meet and Joyce can instantly tell this is about more than just the fight with Vecna, more than the wormhole collapsing in on itself, more than the whole world potentially ending tonight, it’s about Will. She takes a moment to let them both breathe, prepare themselves for whatever will be said. “Will…” She pauses, unsure of if she should tell him that he can speak to her about this while alone, or if to tell him to hurry up, the others are waiting for them outside, “Will, baby, whatever you’d like to say… you can say it. It’s gonna be alright.” Her fingers interlock with his and she rubs her thumb over his knuckles letting him know that no matter what he says, she’s got his back forever.
Will nods and his gaze shifts to the boy with the black hair besides her, expecting some sort of reassurance from him too, but only to gain an awkward flicker of the eyes. Mike imagines himself kneeling next to his best friend, offering words of comfort and promises of playing D&D next weekend, but only if Will is honest about what the hell is going on.
Will’s breath hitches in his throat, his grasp on his mothers hand never wavers. “I haven't told any of you this because I don't want you to see me differently. But the truth is... I am-I am different.
I just pretended like I wasn't because I didn't want to be. I wanted to be like everyone else. I wanted to be like my friends and I am like you. I'm like you in in almost every way. We like playing D&D late into the night and we like that old person smell in Mike's basement, and we like biking to Melvald's for malted milkshakes, and we like getting lost in the woods and getting lost in Family Video and arguing about what to rent and settling on 'Holy Grail' for the millionth time. And we like Milk Duds in our popcorn with extra butter, and we like drinking Coke with Pop Rocks, and we like bike races and trading comics and NASA and Steve Martin and Lucky Charms and literally all the same things. I just-” There’s such a clear mix of frustration and excitement pouring out of his tone. His voice rushes like the engine of a motorbike, matching with the beat of Mikes heart. Then suddenly, that rapid tone just comes to a halt. “…I just— I— I’m gay…”
Mike bats his eyes. It made more sense to him than he’d like to admit. The thought had certainly crossed his mind before, many times, but having his theory about Will be confirmed felt… strangely relieving. Then Mike questioned if the other suspicion of his, that stupid, selfish, egotistical suspicion was also correct. He watched Will’s face turn to everyone in the room, terror lingering like a dark blue storm cloud over his head. The two glance at each other again, but this time Mike stands his ground, thinks of how brave Will is and decides he must do the same: be honest and never falter under fear.
“And I had this crush on someone even though I know they're not like me. But then I realized he's just my Tammy, and by Tammy, I mean it was never about him. It was about me. And I decided that if I didn’t tell you all the truth now, if-if I continued to live a lie, I would see no point in trying to win against Vecna. And I just-I’m scared that… that there’s something wrong with me. I keep thinking that I’ll push you away and we’ll just drift apart more and more and more and more and more until I'm alone and it just feels so real. It feels so real.”
Tears stream from Will’s eyes, he buries his face into his mothers shoulder, gripping onto her for dear life. Joyce holds him close, scared that if she lets go, he’ll be taken again just like he was all those year ago. “Will, you gotta listen to me, that will never ever happen. You’ll never lose me… ever.” The boys muffled sobs go unheard in the fabric of Joyce’s jacket. Looming above, he feels the arms of Johnathan wrap around the two of them. Will stands, still in the shield of his brother. Twisting his head left, the stares of Dustin and Lucas feels less intimidating paired with their gentle, comforting smiles. When they stand and hug him, they feel warmer than the sun shining through the blinds. A light tap on the shoulder reveals his sister, tears swelling with that sweet, dopey grin on her face. Her arms stretch around him and the others.
Mike stands. There’s a dire dread that encapsulates him and forces his lanky limbs to shutter. He views the large display of affection unravel before him and craves for it too. All he wants is to be told the same thing, to feel…
Will is let go of by everyone. Mike tries to say something but the words get caught in his throat as if there were barbed wire in the way. His boots are glued to the white tile below him. As though this were a game of Chess, Will moves in the opposite direction. He's with Max now, symbolizing their friendship with an affectionate embrace (although it be one way).
El digs her elbow into Mike, brows furrowed, silently telling him off for not doing anything.
“Will!” Mike calls out from behind. The brunette turns around, tears beginning to develop in his bottom lashes again, “Yes?”
“Uh…” The boys mind runs wild with concepts of replies, questions, confessions. His thumb grazes over his palm repeatedly, anxiously waiting for something to come out of his own mouth. Finally, he forms the words: “Um, I’m still you’re… best friend, right?”
Will blinks once – twice – thrice, but never breaks eye contact. “Ye-yeah. As long as I’m yours.”
“Always.”
They both crack a dorky smile each. The fresh air is suddenly breathable again when Mike’s legs come waddling towards Will, arms ready to cling to him. Their bodies shift together. Every time Mike hold him like this, he thinks of how perfectly his face slots into the side of Will’s neck, almost as if it were molded to fit there. Max sits facing the rest of the group from below in her wheelchair. She stares up at Mike, an entertained, proud smirk on her lips, “Really smooth, Wheeler.” she mouths. With the same look on his face, he rolls his eyes and gives her the middle finger from behind Will’s back.
Joyce approaches the two, she asks, “Will, honey, do you think you’re ready now?” Not an inch of hesitation comes forth as Will instantly nods his head, pride and bravery shining through like the sun casting gold all over him.
Everyone starts to leave the room, heading for the exit of the Squawk with the Byers in the lead, all teary eyed and holding each other. Lucas hauls Max from behind, Dustin and El gleefully by their side, chatting amongst themselves. Mike grabs El’s hand, “Uh, I left something in the basement. El, can you, you know, come with me to get it?”
The other three share a suspicious glare. Dustin pipes up, “Why can’t you just do it yourself?”
Mike’s mind blanks, “I’m, uh, a bit on edge.” he nods to himself. Max rolls her eyes, “Well, hurry up, don’t be making out down there.”
Mike, with his girlfriend still in hand, sprints down the hall, “WE’LL ONLY BE A MINUTE!!” he yells as though he was telling his mother to get off the phone. Max, Dustin, and Lucas return to walking out the doors, before resuming their conversation, Lucas mutters: “Dustin, when was the last time you even saw them make out? Had to be, like, sometime before the Byer’s moved, right?”
The basement sits devoid of equipment, people, and emotions before the two lovebirds wander in. Mike’s boots make the whole room shake with each stomp down the stairs. When he touches the concrete floor, he turns to the girl, sweat building on his brow and his heart begging for an escape from his ribcage. “El,” He sighs, “I lied. I didn’t-” “Didn’t actually leave anything in here, I know, I assumed.” “Oh. Well then, when Will was talking to us all back there, I thought about how honest he is, and that if I wanna be ready to fight Venca, I need to be honest too.
El’s head hung low, she bites her lip so hard she fears she’ll draw blood. “I need to speak with you too. I want to… need to ask you something.”
Hand in hand, Mike takes them both to the sofa. El separates herself from him, removing their grasp of one another. Her stare isn’t cruel, or angry, or full of hate, it’s a look of peace and acceptance. “We have been together for 1324 days. You first kissed me 1818 days ago.”
“The first time you kissed me, it was day 6. When you asked me to be your girlfriend, it was day 487.” Somehow, he already knows what she is about to say. “It is now day 1823. How many more until you say “I love you” again?”
The two of them had caught on to Mike’s little game of avoiding that phrase a long time ago, but had never resolved the issue. It wasn’t that they were too busy with crawls, or school, or training, they had just tiptoed around the subject until it had now become a large, gaping hole sucking up everything in its way. Hopper tells her he loves her everyday, but the last time she had heard Mike say that, it was to his mother over the phone before bed over a year ago.
He doesn’t say anything; not out of panic or hesitation, but because he knows that she knows. Her unexpected kind smile offers comfort and the face of brutal honesty. Their hands clasp together again, but unlike the previous hundreds of times doing so, the ‘love’ in their touch is not forced because its a love they actually feel.
“Mike, I-I do not love you anymore either…” He had fantasized of this scenario millions of times before, but this time his tears were of relief and her smile was genuine, “Well, I do still, just not in a boyfriend-girlfriend way.” She giggled. They hugged each other close, safe in the knowledge that the big hole eating away at itself which was once their puppy-love romance, was now covered by the big metal band-aid of truth. “I love you too!” Mike exclaimed, wiping tears away from his heartening eyes, “El, out of everyone on Earth, I’m so thankful we found you that day. I will always love you. I will always be your friend. Always.”
His hand extends when he stands and he lifts her up, El laughs to herself “Max always said to me that there is more to life stupid boys.” He nods with a smirk of glee, “She’s right. Cmon, everyone is waiting for us. They probably think we got lost in here or something.”
Together they skip to the staircase, feeling much more ready for the dangers the day will bring. Mike shuts the door behind them, as he covers the gap with the box, he proclaims “You’re, like, an actual superhero, but you know D&D and fantasy and sorcerers are more my thing.”