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Will stood at the edge of the radio tower, the cold metal railings biting into his palm as he swung the radio transmitter around for the hundredth time. His teeth chattered and the wind whipped through his hair as he stretched his arm out and beyond the metal barrier. Despite the cold he felt oddly rejuvenated– like a weight had lifted off his chest. Just hours ago, he had made the dumbest, most impulsive decision of his life– and had come out to his band. Vecna’s visions got the best of him, and he needed to prove to himself that his friends cared more about him than that creature had made it seem. And by some saving grace, he was right. His friends hadn’t abandoned him at the altar. He was still here, perched on some tower, waving around some stupid box trying to pick up a signal from Hopper– while the rest of his group waited back down to discuss strategy.
If the weather had been kinder, and the radio a little less uncooperative– Will could almost say he was having a good time.
“Don’t you think?” He asked the transmitter. He was answered with more static. If only sheer willpower could force through the signal. He frowned down at the device, and knocked it hard against the railing.
“Dammit.”
“Woah, watch where you’re swinging that!”
Will startled, nearly dropping the radio. He spun around, coming face to face with Mike.
“Mike! Sorry.” He straightened up immediately, squaring his shoulders almost defensively. He cleared his throat.
“Sorry. I–uh. I didn’t hear you coming up.”
“Don’t mention it.” Mike replied easily, leaning against the railing beside him. The breeze catches in his hair, and a few strands fall onto his face. He brushes them off with a hand, and nudges towards the radio.
“Doubt we’re getting signal anytime soon.” He joked.
Will didn’t seem to catch onto his tone, and looked down at the device in his hand, forlorn.
“Yeah… seems like it.” He replied halfheartedly.
The air between them had been heavy in the aftermath of that noon. It was as if something had shifted, but they had both remained the same outwardly. The silence settled over them like the shadows cast at night. The wind battered away at them. Mike chewed at his bottom lip, contemplating, before speaking up again.
“Hey…” He started again, softer. “I know you’re worried about her. But El hasn’t let us down before. And she isn’t gonna start anytime soon.” He flashed Will his best fix-it smile.
Will returned the gesture, though his smile was strained at the edges.
“Yeah. I know.”
They went silent once more. The air between them awkward. Heavy. Picking up on the shift in tone– Mike spoke up again, clearing his throat.
“So uh…” He hesitated. “there was something I wanted to talk to you about.”
Will met his eyes, still resting against the railing. Their fingers brushed momentarily– cold against cold– and they both stilled for half a second. Their eyes locked, before they hurriedly looked in the opposite direction.
“Um,” Mike continued, clearing his throat. “What you said earlier, at the Squawk… I’m sorry.”
The blood drained from Will’s face immediately, and Mike rushed on, panicking.
“I mean– not sorry about what you said. That came out wrong. Or not came out wrong! Jesus Christ–”
A soft chuckle cut off his rambling.
Mike glanced over to his side. Moonlight washed over Will’s face, giving him an almost otherworldly glow. Mirth danced across his eyes, bright as he laughed quietly and said–
“It’s okay.”
It was dangerously easy to get caught up in Will’s smile– in his dorky laugh, the way his eyes crinkled up, the light flush that dusted over his cheeks. Dangerous, how Mike feels himself get swept up in the calm warmth radiating off of him, in how the faint moonlight highlighted the slope of his shoulders and–
No. He needed to focus.
“No,” he said, firmer now. “It’s not okay.”
Will blinked.
“I should’ve been there for you,” Mike continued. “And I wasn’t.”
Doubt flickered across Will’s expression again– just for a second– but Mike saw it. Nothing got past him, and it hurt more than anything. Years of knowing someone did that to you. You learn their ins and outs and off little habits like the back of your hand– whether or not you know it. And Mike should’ve known. He should’ve seen the signs. He should’ve protected him. Defended him. Tried a little harder.
Mike leaned back against the railing and dragged a hand through his hair, letting out a long, shaky sigh. His eyes fell shut, but he could still feel Will watching him, quiet and intent, leaving unspoken questions he hadn’t asked yet. And at this rate, he never would.
“I guess I was just so… self-absorbed,” Mike admitted. “I couldn’t even see it. I just– I feel like an idiot, and–”
His voice wavered. “I’m sorry.”
He let his hands drop and looked up again, tentative. Will was staring right back at him as the moon did him no favors, leaving his expression unreadable in the dark.
“You don’t have to be sorry,” Will whispered softly. “And you are not an idiot. You’re not.”
He paused, letting the words sit on his tongue before speaking again.
“It’s just… I didn’t even understand it myself for the longest time. And I think– I think it happened the way it needed to. I needed to find my own way.”
He turned suddenly, and Mike could fully take him in for the first time since they had started speaking.
“What matters more to me is that you’re still here.”
Mike nodded quickly, offering him a shaky smile.
“And not just that,” Will choked. “You still think we can be friends.” He broke into a watery smile, for real this time. His eyes were earnest. Open in a way that made Mike’s chest ache. That was what Mike loved most about him. How he could never really lie to anyone– not even to himself.
That was also what he envied most. But he would never say that out loud.
Friends don’t lie, echoed somewhere faintly in his memory.
“Friends?” Mike repeated, his voice hoarse. “No thanks.”
Will looked confused– just for a second. Mike gently lifted Will’s hand from his shoulder, not missing the brief falter in Will’s expression, and instead took both of Will’s hands between his own. Will’s eyes went wide.
“I– I haven’t been completely honest with you guys about something,” Mike started. His voice broke on the last syllable, jumping an octave like he was still thirteen and stupid.
“Mike?” Will looked concerned. He paid it no mind.
“When you–” Mike took a steadying breath. “When you said all that, back at the Squawk, I just… I felt like you were so– brave. And I hated how I couldn’t stand up for you. I- I couldn’t even look you in the eye...”
His voice cracked.
He felt the faint press of Will’s hands rubbing circles into his back, trying to calm him down. It made him want to sob. He forced himself to go on.
“I couldn’t bring myself to look at you– even though you were looking right at me,” Mike whispered.
He braved a look up, and their eyes fixed on each other. They looked at each other properly, and years of shared looks and sleepovers and lingering touches and fights in the rain and teary-eyed admissions passed between them. It somehow made what was coming even more painful.
“I just…” Mike’s voice dropped to a whisper as he looked down, unable to face Will.
“I just wish I was brave like you.”
A tear slipped down his cheek. And that was only the first crack in the dam. Years of denial and arguments and missed potential clouded his brain, crawling down his throat and choking the words out of him.
Will hands tightened around his. “Mike–”
“Will I–” Mike looked up again, tears flowing freely now. “I don’t want to be– whoever Tammy was to you! I want to be your Mike. I– I want to be with you when all of this is over. I want to be honest– with myself and with you, and Nancy, and Steve, and Dustin, and Lucas– and fuck, everyone.”
He was far gone now, his hand twisted onto Will’s shirt so tightly he feared it might rip. He took a shuddering breath.
“I just… I need to know you’re going to make it out alive. That you won’t do anything stupid. I need you to come back to us– to me. It can’t end now.”
He finally collapsed forward, his forehead bumping Will’s chest, arms clinging onto his shoulders like his life depended on it. His entire body trembled as he cried in Will’s arms, the silence only punctuated by the occasional gasp and heave. How ironic. Mike Wheeler– the protector, the strategist, the heart of the team– was unraveling completely. His heart spilled out everything he’d felt through his eyes and mouth, soaking into Will’s lapel. Feelings years overdue.
After what felt like an eternity, Mike pulled back slowly. He vaguely noticed that Will had been silent this entire time.
Great, Mike thought bitterly. Cried so hard I turned Will homophobic. Amazing job, Wheeler.
He could still feel Will’s chest rise and fall beneath his palms. He was about to apologize– take it all back, pull away– when suddenly a pair of lips crashed into his with enough force to make him stumble.
Will’s lips.
And then Will flinched back like he’d been burned.
“Oh my god, Mike. I’m so sorry– I don't know what came over me–”
Mike didn’t let him finish. He caught Will’s wrists and kissed him again– hard.
For a second, Will froze, before pressing back with vigor. His eyes fluttered shut, hands finding Mike’s shoulders as he kissed back.The kiss was firm, reassuring– like a promise.
After a few minutes, they broke apart slowly, breathing hard, foreheads still touching.
They met each other’s eyes once more, an unspoken vow settling between them. Mike plants a softer, more chaste kiss on Will’s lips, before drawing back. His head felt dizzy, swimming with the high of adrenaline and his prior confession. His heart is hammering in his chest so hard it almost hurts. Will is hardly in better shape, looking at Mike like he’d hung the damn moon.
“–And where the hell did Mike go!”
Nancy’s voice cut through the moment like a knife, and they jumped apart instantly.
“Will? Answer me, bud!” Jonathan called, exasperation growing as their voices drew closer. “If they’ve run off again– especially with all the soldiers out—”
“I’m sure they’ll find their way back.” Nancy replies smoothly. Too smooth.
She’d clearly spotted them from where she stood, and flashed them a knowing grin before turning back to a defeated Johnathan. “They always do. They’re not kids anymore. Now let’s head back before Joyce loses her mind over all four of us.”
“But–”
“Just go!”
Mike and Will watched as she pushed him the other way. They looked back at each other and promptly burst into a fit of giggles. For now, they headed back toward the base. Tomorrow– because there would be a tomorrow– they would talk. About this. About them. About what this meant for them. But right now, they walked side by side, shoulders bumping, hands brushing. Knowing at least one doubt had been put to rest.
Knowing they had something new– something precious– worth fighting for.