Work Text:
Mike Wheeler knew he shouldn’t be feeling this way. This was his best friend since kindergarten. The one he could spend every second of the day with and never get bored. The one he’d do anything to protect, even if it meant putting himself in danger. The one he couldn’t imagine losing.
He didn’t know when it started. When his heartbeat began to race the second he walked into a room. When his laugh or smile ignited butterflies in Mike’s stomach—especially when he was the reason for them.
Keeping these feelings to himself was becoming impossible. Will would walk in, eyes searching for Mike immediately, and the moment their gazes met, that familiar, adorable smile would bloom across his face.
And when they talked, sitting close like always, their knees brushing, Mike couldn’t stop staring at his lips. Couldn’t stop wondering what it might feel like to press his mouth to his. To finally know what Will Byers tasted like.
Will Byers. His absolute best friend.
Yeah. He was utterly fucked.
Mike was used to bottling things up until they became unbearable. Even when he was hurting, he never wanted to burden anyone. He convinced himself staying quiet made things easier for everyone.
But Will never let him suffer alone.
When they were younger, Mike once fell off his bike and skidded his knee, blood streaking down his leg as tears prickled in his eyes. He tried to brush it off and get back up, but Will’s hand landed gently on his shoulder, grounding him, promising he’d help him clean it up.
That was who Will was. Attentive. Reassuring. Kind. Soft in the ways that mattered. He always knew when something was wrong.
When Mike’s parents fought, he’d ride straight to the Byers’ house. Will didn’t even have to ask. He’d just pull Mike into his arms and hold him, whispering that everything would be okay.
Will always made Mike feel safe.
Now that they were older, Mike had gotten even better at locking his feelings away, tucking everything inside like a tightly sealed box he refused to open.
But Will could still read him. He always could. When Mike was sad, stressed, spiraling—Will noticed.
Luckily, he hadn’t seemed to notice the feelings he had for him.
Mike wasn’t even sure when it truly began. Maybe it had been longer than he ever let himself admit. Even when he dated El—yeah, he thought she was pretty, and yeah, he cared about her but even then, he always thought about Will.
How could he not?
Will had disappeared. Had been dragged into the Upside Down. Had been tortured by Vecna. And yet somehow, he survived. Somehow he stayed gentle anyway. Even though he went through so much, he was still the same Will he knew since they were kids. His best friend.
Now Hawkins was finally normal again. People were breathing easier. For months everyone waited for disaster to strike again, but it didn’t. Vecna was gone. Hawkins was boring again. Forgettable again.
But Will still had nightmares.
Will, Jonathan, and Joyce were still staying at the Wheelers’ house. During quarantine they’d had nowhere else to go, and the Wheelers had graciously taken them in.
It had been nice. Comforting, even. Having them there made the house feel warmer—having Will there made it feel brighter. But it was also dangerous. Because every day Will stayed under the same roof, every shared laugh, every late-night conversation, every time they fell asleep in the same bed in closed proximity made Mike’s feelings harder and harder to ignore.
It wasn’t every night that they ended up sleeping in the same bed. Most of the time, Mike would just head down to the basement to keep Will company while Jonathan quietly snuck upstairs to Nancy’s room.
But on the nights Will had nightmares, Mike was always there. He’d immediately wrap his arms around him, pulling him close to his chest, whispering soft, reassuring words until the panic eased. Will’s cheeks would be streaked with tears, his whole body trembling as Mike held him tighter, refusing to let go. Eventually Will’s breathing would slow, his shaking would stop, and he’d fall asleep against Mike, safe and warm in his arms.
The past year had made it harder and harder to keep those feelings a secret. Avoiding Will wasn’t an option — that would’ve been torture, but being around him while pretending everything was normal felt just as painful. Maybe Mike was oblivious, but he honestly couldn’t tell if Will felt the same. Will never talked about crushing on anyone.
But Mike always remembered that moment in the van in Utah. Will showing him the painting. Saying El commissioned it. Mike had tried not to let it show, but disappointment hit him hard. Because for a second, he’d believed it was for him. That the words Will said– calling him the “heart” weren’t just something meant to boost Mike’s confidence, but something honest. Something personal. Something from Will himself.
He never asked. He didn’t dare. But the painting still hung above his desk in his bedroom. Of course it did. Will painted it — how could he not keep it up? Just like the binder hidden under his bed, filled with Will’s drawings he couldn’t bring himself to part with.
When Will and El moved to Lenora, Mike was devastated. Everyone assumed it was just about dealing with long-distance, but that wasn’t what tore him up the most. What terrified him was losing Will. Missing his laugh. Wondering if Will would move on, make new friends, forget him.
He tried calling almost every day, and almost every day all he got was a busy signal. Later he found out Joyce needed the phone constantly for her telemarketing job which explained everything, but didn’t make the ache any easier. Mike missed his best friend so much it hurt.
So when they moved back to Hawkins and needed somewhere to stay, Mike couldn’t have been happier. Having Will in the house again felt like breathing after months underwater. Will helped around the house, was sweet to his parents, kind to Nancy and Holly.
And to Mike?
He was everything. He was warmth, comfort, familiarity.
He was the light of his life.
Mike sat in his room, the distant sounds of chatter and dishes clanking drifting up from downstairs. He could hear Nancy arguing about something, his mom arguing right back.
He wasn’t hungry. He didn’t feel like socializing either. His mom had already called up to him three times, and each time he shouted that he wasn’t hungry and was too tired to come down.
Up here, it was quiet. Peaceful. He could sit and think for a while even if “a while” usually turned into getting stuck in his own head. He didn’t really mind. Inside his head, at least he could sort his feelings out without burdening anyone else with them.
His eyes snapped up when he heard footsteps he’d recognize anywhere. A presence he felt before he even truly saw him.
Will.
Their eyes met, and Mike immediately noticed the plate of food in Will’s hands. For him. His heart melted on the spot.
“Hungry?” Will asked softly, that small, effortless smile tugging at his lips. He was so goddamn charming, and he didn’t even realize it.
Mike’s gaze dropped to the plate — toast and bacon. His favorite. Of course it was. He tilted his head, silently inviting Will inside. Will shut the door with his free hand before crossing the room and sitting beside him, setting the plate in Mike’s lap.
Their knees brushed instantly, a spark of electricity shooting straight through Mike. Did Will feel that too?
“Thanks,” Mike murmured, taking a bite of bacon. He glanced down, then back up at Will, a shy gleam lingering in his eyes. “Sorry I didn’t come down.”
Will’s face softened, instantly gentle. He shook his head. “You don’t have to apologize. Are you okay?”
Of course he’d ask that. Of course he’d know. Will knew him better than anyone. He always had.
Well… almost everything.
Just not the part where Mike Wheeler was utterly, helplessly, uncontrollably in love with him.
“How’d you know?” Mike asked, glancing up at Will—at those sparkling hazel eyes, that perfectly shaped nose. His gaze dropped to his lips, pink and soft and so painfully kissable. Like they were begging to be kissed. He wondered what it would feel like to kiss him until he forgot how to breathe.
God. He was staring too long, wasn’t he?
Will’s brows furrowed slightly before he let out a quiet laugh. “I know you, Mike Wheeler.”
Such simple words. Yet they sent butterflies exploding in Mike’s stomach, heat rushing up his neck and burning across his cheeks.
“That you do,” Mike laughed weakly, grabbing another strip of bacon to distract himself. He glanced toward the window, snow coating the ground in thick white sheets. “Just thinking.”
Will’s expression softened instantly. “About what?”
Mike sighed, setting his plate aside on the nightstand. “Have you ever been so… enchanted by someone that it nearly takes your breath away?”
Will blinked. Once. Twice. He stared like he wasn’t sure he heard correctly. “Enchanted… takes your breath away,” He repeated slowly, letting the words sit between them. Then, a tiny, stunned smile tugged at his lips. “Look at you, Mr. Poet.”
Mike rolled his eyes and bumped Will’s shoulder with his own, laughing. “Answer the question, Byers.”
Will bit his bottom lip, thinking. For a second, he seemed unsure—almost nervous. His gaze dropped to his lap, then slowly lifted to meet Mike’s again.
He nodded. “Yeah. I have. I still feel that way currently.”
Jealousy burned through Mike immediately. He tried to swallow it down. He knew Will liked boys. Will had told him months ago. Mike had always kind of known anyway. But that didn’t mean Will liked him.
“Tell me about them,” Mike blurted, the words leaving faster than he could stop them. He knew that it would only fill him with jealousy, but he also wanted to know what the other person was like and if they knew how lucky they were to have the attention of Will Byers himself.
Will’s cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink, a quiet, embarrassed laugh slipping out before he shook his head. “I’m not sure you want to hear about that. I mean… it’s obviously not a girl.”
Did he really think Mike wouldn’t understand because of that?
Mike reached out without even thinking, his hand settling gently on Will’s shoulder. Warm. Steady. Reassuring. “I know,” He said softly. “I just… had no idea about this person. You never told me.”
He didn’t want to feel hurt by that. Will didn’t owe him every secret. He didn’t have to talk about anything he wasn’t ready to share. But still. Mike wanted him to feel safe enough to tell him. To trust him with something like this.
And yet, he couldn’t exactly judge, could he?
Because Mike hadn’t confessed anything either. Not about how every look, every laugh, every breath Will took was starting to feel like gravity.
Will’s gaze drifted to Mike’s hand still resting on his shoulder before lifting to meet his eyes. “Nothing’s come out of it,” He said softly. “I mean, I thought maybe there were signs, but… no. They definitely don’t like me back.”
He sounded so sure. So resigned. Like he’d already accepted heartbreak without ever being given an answer.
Mike’s thumb moved instinctively, brushing gently across Will’s shoulder in a slow, comforting motion. Will relaxed under the touch. “How do you know that?” Mike asked quietly. “You can’t be that sure.”
Will shook his head, eyes flicking away. He stared down at his fingers picking at the hem of his sweater. “Trust me,” He whispered, voice heavy with sadness. “He doesn’t like boys.”
Mike’s chest tightened painfully. He slid his hand down from Will’s shoulder to his arm, dangerously close to his hand. He wanted to grab it. He wanted to hold on and never let go. He wanted to tell him that if this guy didn’t like him back, then he was a complete idiot because Mike liked him. More than liked him. He might even love him.
“Will,” He breathed. “You don’t know that. You’re… amazing. Anyone would be lucky to have you.”
Color rushed to Will’s cheeks instantly, flushing deep down his neck. His gaze flickered to Mike’s hand inching closer, then back to Mike’s eyes. “You really think so?”
Mike nodded, fingers giving Will’s forearm a gentle squeeze. “I know so.” A small smile tugged at his lips. “Tell me about them. Please?”
Will inhaled deeply, then nodded. “He’s been in my life for a while. He’s funny. Kind. He always puts other people first. He’s… generous. I know he cares about me, that much is obvious. He always makes sure I’m okay. But I just know he doesn’t like boys. I’m almost certain.”
Mike frowned, jealousy twisting in his stomach. Whoever this guy was, he hated him a little already.
“Has he ever given you any hint that he might like you back?” Mike asked.
Will didn’t hesitate this time. His eyes locked with Mike’s. “Yeah. He’s always there for me. He touches me sometimes and it’s like—” He swallowed, cheeks deepening in color, “Like an electric current through my body. He calms me down. Reassures me. Makes me feel like I matter. Like I’m important.”
Of course he mattered. To Mike, he mattered more than anything.
And God, the way Will said it… the way he looked at him as he said it.
It felt dangerously close to being about him.
“Of course you matter. You’re important. So important,” Mike breathed, his heart pounding in his chest. “Will… you’re everything.”
Confidence surged through him before he could stop it. His hand slid down Will’s arm until it found his, fingers curling gently around Will’s hand and giving it a soft squeeze. The contact sent electricity sparking through his veins. “Do you hear me? You’re everything.”
Will went still.
He looked stunned at the sudden touch, eyes welling with tears, shimmering and fragile. Mike wanted nothing more than to wipe them away, to hold him closer, to never let him feel like he was anything less than extraordinary.
Will stared down at their joined hands on his lap, breathing unevenly, before slowly lifting his gaze back to Mike.
“Mike,” He said, voice quiet but certain. “It’s you.”
Mike couldn’t breathe.
His mouth opened, but no words came out. His heart was hammering in his chest, slamming against his ribcage so hard he swore Will could hear it. His eyes widened, shock flooding through him, but he never once broke eye contact. He couldn’t.
It felt like something inside him loosened — like a weight he’d been carrying for far too long had finally lifted off his shoulders.
Will. His best friend. The person he loved more than anything.
He felt the same way Mike did.
“H-how long?” Mike stammered. His thoughts were a blur, his breath uneven. All he could focus on was the warmth of Will’s hand in his and the deafening sound of his own heartbeat.
“I don’t know… my whole life?” Will laughed softly, breath shaky with nerves and relief. His gaze dropped to their joined hands, eyes softening. Slowly, he turned his wrist, opening his hand—an unspoken invitation.
Mike didn’t hesitate. Their fingers slid together, fitting perfectly, like they had always been meant to.
“The painting,” Mike blurted. “You told me El commissioned it. All those things you said—calling me the heart. Was that a lie?”
Will shook his head immediately. Tears glimmered in his eyes before spilling down his cheeks. “What I said to you… every single word of it was real. You are the heart. But no, El didn’t commission it. She didn’t even know what it was about. She just knew I was painting something and maybe had a crush. But those words?” His voice softened. “Even though I said them for El, they were actually from me.”
Mike knew he should be angry. Will had lied—technically. He should’ve felt betrayed. But he didn’t. He understood.
His fingers tightened around Will’s hand, his heart pounding so violently he could barely think. After all this time, finally… the truth was out.
Will liked him back. He hadn’t painted it because of El. He painted it because of Mike. And those words were never El’s voice.
They were Will’s.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Mike whispered. Their hands rested warm and safe on Will’s lap. He looked down at their entwined fingers, then back into Will’s eyes.
Will shrugged helplessly, cheeks wet. Mike gently lifted his free hand, wiping away the tears with his thumb.
“You were dating El,” Will breathed. “And even when I had suspicions that maybe you liked me back, I convinced myself I was delusional. When you visited us in Lenora, things felt weird—off, but then I gave you the painting because you thought you were losing El, and we had that talk, and I still had hope. But I tried not to. Because why would Mike Wheeler ever like me back?”
Mike shook his head, squeezing his hand tighter, shoulders now pressed together, knees brushing.
“When I visited you in Lenora, I already felt like this,” He admitted, laughing breathlessly. “Just a lot more confused. Honestly? I think I always did. When we were kids and I couldn’t stand the thought of you getting hurt, when we’d play D&D, I always looked forward to seeing you the most.” His cheeks flushed. “It was always you, Will.”
Will’s lips curved into a shy smile, eyes never leaving Mike’s. “But you never called when I was in Lenora. I waited. Every time the phone rang I hoped it was you. And yeah, you called a few times, but El got letters. I didn’t. It… hurt.”
Will look undeniably sad and it caused Mike’s chest to ache.
Mike shook his head instantly. “No—Will, that’s not true. I did call. A lot. Your mom got that telemarketing job, I couldn’t get through. And I did write you. I just… never sent them.”
Will’s eyes widened. “Wait–” His voice trembled. “You wrote me?”
Mike nodded, gaze falling. “Yeah. I did,” He said quietly. “I never sent them because when I signed El’s letters, I couldn’t even write the word love because honestly? I didn’t feel that way towards her.”
He suddenly pulled his hand away, releasing Will’s fingers—for now. He took a shaky breath and got up off the bed.
“Mike, what are you—”
Before Will could finish his sentence, he watched Mike open up his desk drawer and pulled out a stack of envelopes.
Fuck. The letters.
With a heavy breath, Mike sat back down, the stack of letters trembling in his hands. He glanced at Will with a nervous, almost embarrassed smile. “Here,” he said softly, placing the letters in Will’s lap. “These are all the letters I never sent. You don’t have to read them now, but… I need you to know I did write to you.”
Will’s fingers brushed over the top envelope, tracing Mike’s handwriting where his name was written. Seeing his own name written there in Mike’s messy handwriting — proof that Mike had thought about him, missed him made his chest tighten. His eyes immediately welled again. “Mike,” He breathed, stunned. “Why didn’t you send them?”
“I was scared,” Mike admitted, voice fragile but honest. “Scared of what I was feeling. Scared of what it meant.” His throat tightened. “That day you left for Lenora, I didn’t cry because El was leaving. I cried because I knew Hawkins wouldn’t be the same without you. It hurt so damn much, Will.”
Will’s hand moved instinctively, squeezing Mike’s as the letters rested in his lap. “You don’t know how badly I wanted to stay,” He whispered. “Leaving… it nearly broke me. Maybe the distance was something we needed, but I never not once believed you’d ever feel the same way.”
Mike shook his head immediately, gripping Will’s hand tighter like he couldn’t stand the idea of letting go. Their shoulders brushed. Their knees were pressed together. Mike could still hear his own heartbeat picking up speed.
“You’re wrong,” Mike said softly. “About two things.”
Will blinked at him through teary lashes, brows knitting in confusion. “What two things?”
“First,” Mike swallowed. He was nervous, but it felt insanely good to get all of this out. “You’re wrong about thinking I could ever forget you. Hawkins without you felt empty. Like someone turned off all the colors and left me stuck in black and white. I kept trying to convince myself that missing you like that was normal. That it was just best friend stuff.” He shook his head softly. “But it wasn’t. It never was. It was more than that.”
Will’s lips parted slightly, a shaky breath leaving him. His thumb brushed over Mike’s knuckles, grounding him. Reminding him that he was here and not going anywhere.
“And the second?” Will whispered.
Mike’s eyes glistened, a soft, breathless laugh escaping him as he leaned just a little closer. “You’re wrong about thinking there was no way I’d ever like you back. Because Will I don’t just like you.” His voice trembled, but he didn’t look away. “I love you. I think I always have. I was just too scared.”
Will’s breath hitched, tears spilling again, but this time they were different. Softer. Warmer. His hand squeezed Mike’s tightly.
“You… you love me?” Will whispered, disbelief and hope tangled together in his voice. He couldn’t believe he was actually hearing his absolute best friend in the entire world confessing his love for him.
Mike nodded slowly, a smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah. I do. And I’m done pretending I don’t.”
Will let out a quiet, broken whimper as he leaned forward, their foreheads pressing together. Their lips hovered just shy of touching, breaths mingling in the space between them. “Then don’t pretend anymore,” He whispered, his mouth brushing dangerously close to Mike’s. “Please, Mike.”
“I love you, Will. I always have.” The words left Mike in a rush —terrified, relieved, overwhelmingly certain. He lifted a trembling hand to cradle Will’s cheek, his thumb gently wiping away the tears that had fallen.
The stack of letters remained forgotten in Will’s lap, but their meaning lingered between them. Proof, history, a thousand unsent confessions. Heat radiated between their bodies; their hearts pounded in frantic, perfect sync. Mike felt like he was floating high in the clouds–weightless, breathless, impossibly high and never wanting to come down.
“I love you too,” Will choked out, a tearful laugh bubbling through his sob. “Since we were kids.” One hand slid around Mike’s back, fingers bunching into the fabric of his shirt as if afraid he might somehow slip away.
Mike couldn’t believe it. After everything —the silence, the signals that have always been there, the aching years. Will loved him back. And somehow, he always had.
“I’m just sorry it took me so long.” Mike laughed, their lips close to touching. “I’m so sorry.”
Will shook his head quickly. “No, no. You don’t need to apologize. But… you know how you can make it up to me?”
Mike pulled back just enough to see his face, brows knitting together in confusion. “How?”
A breathy laugh escaped Will, disbelief and boldness mixing together as he flashed a mischievous smirk. “Kiss me, you asshole.”
Mike barely had time to think — barely had time to breathe before Will’s hand slid to the back of his neck, tugging him forward. Then Will’s mouth was on his, confident and desperate and everything Mike had spent years dreaming about.
Shock jolted through Mike’s entire body, but he shoved it aside. He could panic later. Right now Will Byers was kissing him and that’s all that mattered.
He kissed him back just as urgently, pouring years of wanting, aching, and pretending into it. Electricity shot through his veins as both hands came up to cradle Will’s face, pulling him impossibly closer. It was messy, imperfect, breathtaking and absolutely everything Mike had ever wanted.
Will tilted his head and deepened the kiss, and Mike let out a low, surprised sound against his lips. Will’s fingers threaded into Mike’s hair, holding him there like he was terrified of letting go. Their mouths moved together in perfect rhythm, Mike’s tongue brushing teasingly against Will’s lower lip. Will let out a soft, needy whine, parting his lips and Mike didn’t hesitate.
Their tongues met, slow turning to eager, as their bodies pressed close together. Heat bloomed beneath Mike’s skin; one hand slipped beneath Will’s shirt, fingertips grazing warm skin and earning a breathless moan from Will that sent shivers racing down Mike’s spine.
He’d never heard anything so perfect.
After several endless, dizzying moments, Mike finally broke the kiss, breathless and flushed, chest heaving. Will stared back at him with dazed eyes and kiss-swollen lips.
Holy shit.
He actually kissed Will Byers.
Will Byers actually loved him back.
It took a moment for Mike to find his words. He moved his hands to find Will’s, the letters still surprisingly still laying on Will’s lap.
“Wow,” Mike breathed, a soft, breathless laugh escaping his lips.
Will giggled quietly, warmth flooding his expression as he laced their fingers together and gave Mike’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “Yeah. Wow.” His smile widened, eyes shining. “I can’t believe my best friend has a crush on me.”
Mike shot him a playful look, that familiar teasing spark returning. “More than a crush, y’know.”
Will leaned in until their foreheads pressed together, their breaths mingling, still uneven and a little shaky. “So…” He whispered, hope and disbelief evident in his voice. “Does this mean I can call you my boyfriend?”
Mike didn’t hesitate. He nodded and leaned forward, pressing a soft, tender kiss to Will’s lips. It was gentle this time, grounded. “You don’t even have to ask,” He murmured against his lips. “Absolutely.”
They stayed there like that, close and breathless, fingers intertwined and hearts still racing.
In that moment, Mike knew they weren’t just best friends anymore.
They were something bigger. Something undeniable. They were soulmates.
And maybe… they always had been.
My advice is always ruin the friendship
Better that than regret it for all time
Should've kissed you anyway
And my advice is always answer the question
Better that than to ask it all your life
Should've kissed you anyway
─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───
Dear Will,
It’s been 202 days since you left for Lenora. Hawkins hasn’t been the same without you. Dustin and Lucas miss you, but not as much as I do.
I know life’s been hectic, but I really wish I could have savored the good moments while you were still here.
When we played D&D in my basement, when you stayed over, when we’d watch a movie and fall asleep, only to wake up and start the day all over again together.
I miss that.
I miss you.
I’ll try calling again soon. Nancy said Jonathan told her that Joyce got a new telemarketer job.
Maybe remind her it’s unfair to keep the line busy for so long.
I hope everything’s going well in California.
I’ll write again soon.
Love,
Mike