Work Text:
It was a lazy evening with Carlton, Will lay sprawled out upon his lap as Carlton flickered through channels.
"Nothing to watch." He groaned, stretching.
"Why don't we go see a movie?" Will sat up, shrugging.
"Yeah. But my car still isn't working." Carlton huffed.
"Then we walk, the movie theater isn't far." Will teased him, lightly elbowing him in the side.
"Yeah, okay." He frowned at the tease.
The couple left their apartment and started down the busy streets of New York―streets unspecified because the author is a Canadian and has never been to New York, and doesn't really bother to learn its' geography―as they discussed what movie they'd like to go watch.
Suddenly, a Ford F-150 Came into sight and almost immediately ran right into Carlton, with a force that could only be compared to the strength of God Himself plunging the world into a flood.
Will recoiled immediately, his eyes wide.
The truck backed up, and the window rolled down.
In the front seat sat Michael Wheeler himself, flashing a lopsided grin.
"Beep beep, Will." He honked his horn twice, in unison with his words. "Get in."
"Mike what the fuck." Will gasped, looking at the crumpled body of his now-dead-boyfriend, doing the family guy death pose.
"You don't wanna run over the Duffer Brothers with me?" Mike's lower lip jutted out tearfully.
"Ugh, fine." Will muttered, getting into the truck.
"Buckle up, buttercup." Mike chimed and stepped on the gas pedal. They immediately started down the road, breaking the speed limit.
"Mi-i-i-i-i-i-iiiike th-i-i-i-s i-i-i-sss to-o-o- fa-a-a-a-ast!!" Will exclaimed, gripping the sides of his seat as his voice warbled.
"We're almost there." Mike hummed happily as Matt and Ross Duffer came into view.
The two barely had time to turn their heads around, too busy discussing spin-offs that they could milk the franchise for from, and more tactics on how to queerbait the audience so they'd get more money.
Mike stepped his hardest on the pedal, and it sent the vehicle speeding faster than either could process over the Duffer Brothers. They crashed through the Empire State Building, and finally to safety.
Will's chest heaved as it finally came to a stop.
"Michael Wheeler, what the FUCK." He snapped, taking in shaky, panicked breaths.
"Shh," He turned to face him, pressing a finger to the shorter man's lips.
"What- What are you doing?" Will frowned, annoyed by Mike's antics.
"You perfect. Me perfect. We perfect together." He crooned.
"Oh my fucking god, shut the fuck up." Will groaned, slumping in his seat and sliding towards the floor.
Mike immediately burst into tears, head thrown back. The steady stream formed arcs in the air as he wailed, in an impossible and frankly cartoonish manner.
"Fine, I'm sorry. Not you." Will winced.
"Oh, ok!" Mike grinned, immediately recovering with no trace of tears, nor puffiness from crying.
"So, what have you been up to?" Will asks begrudgingly, only asking out of a certain pity.
"Writing Byler fanfiction on ao3." The writer chimed in a matter-of-fact tone.
"What is Byler..." Will's lip twitched in disdain.
"You. Me." Mike traced his finger tips on Will's shirt, over his heart.
"Huh." Will deadpanned, blinking absently.
"Listen..." Mike shushed him once more, slowly turning up the volume of his car.
He opened Spotify on his car, wiggling his eyebrows at Will.
"Want a break from the ads?"
"NO FUCK YOU YOU USELESS PIECE OF FUCKING SHIT!" Mike thrashed in place, upset because he was too broke to afford Spotify Premium.
"Oh God. Mike, are you okay?!" Will's eyebrows raised in concern.
"No, the fuckass author keeps projecting on me." He murmured pitifully, but lit up once the beginning of Good Luck, Babe! by Chappell Roan began to play through the car's speakers.
They stayed in place as the song continued to drag on, and by the end, Will's eyes lit up.
"I get it now...!" He turned to meet Mike's gaze, recognition lighting up his face as a grin crawled upon his features.
The two proceeded to make out messily, grabbing and tugging at hair and running hands over backs.
"Will, I was never your Tammy. Unlike her, I can sing." He grabbed a mic out of thin air and immediately began to sing operatically into it.
Tears welled in Will Byers' eyes, and he wiped them away as he began to slow clap. "Wow, you're so right. That was beautiful, Mike."
"I know. Will you marry me, Will Byers? Will you, Will? Will you?" He produced a ring made from those weird Barbie tables in pizza boxes, with a leg snapped off and a string of hardened hot glue connecting the other two legs together.
"Yes!" He gasped, taking the ring immediately.
After the engagement was figured out, Mike backed into a crowd of people, causing a few casualties before speeding back towards Hawkins, which he did in such a speed it warped time and they teleported to the roof of The Squawk.
They were standing next to each other, after saying their vows because the time jump skipped that and I don't want to write allat, and Steve Harrington stood in front of them, officiating the wedding.
After Mike and Will dipped into a final kiss, he burst into song.
"And when I'm back in Chicago, I feel it."
The crowd wiped their eyes, and Joyce stood, scooping her son into a hug.
"Huh, she never did that for me when we got married," Jonathan remarked, looking towards Steve.
"My dude, that is favorism." Argyle―who randomly showed up―said as he took a puff of Purple Palm Tree Delight.
"Yeah, I've seen stranger things, anyways." Jonathan sighed, stealing the Purple Palm Tree Delight and taking a mountainous hit.
"Another version of me, I was in it." Steve continued to sing, reducing the crowd of the wedding to tears and weeps.