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It had been 18 months since Eleven had disappeared from Mike’s life. 18 months since the final battle with Vecna. 18 months of grief and uncertainty. And, to be honest, Mike wouldn’t be able to say how he was doing. The days passed by him fleetingly; he couldn’t even bear to look at his watch often, just to remind himself that he was wasting endless hours of his youth.
But life did not, could not, feel the same.
El had been an enormous part of his adolescence. She had been his first girlfriend, and as some may label it, his first love. They loved each other deeply – that much was certain – but whether it was meant to be a romance had always been up for debate. Mike would never admit it back then, but it wore him down. I mean, they had completely different needs.
Eleven was determined. Through all her pain and trauma, a young woman with unkindled maturity and patience had emerged. She was determined to be a source of strength, but most importantly, independent. El wanted liberty above anything. A life of her own.
Mike, on the other hand, needed to be needed. Since he was a kid his friends nicknamed him ‘The Brave’ and ‘Paladin’. The pride he felt for himself, his confidence and wellbeing, it all came down to being able to protect his friends. And, when he was younger, this had always been his role when it came to Will.
But this isn’t about Will, is it? The point is, something between Mike and Eleven never truly aligned. And from this tension stemmed conflicts that broke them down little by little.
So, when Eleven sacrificed herself, it destroyed him.
He rarely felt such guilt; the kind that was slow but steady, gnawing at his heart. Mike constantly whirled around theories of what he could’ve done differently. How he could’ve saved Eleven and maybe even their relationship. And, by doing so, in these 18 months Mike had managed to push away his friends further than ever before. It was only due to their endless patience that they had reunited in these last few months towards their graduation. The most patient had been Will.
Okay, so maybe this was about Will. Partly. To some extent.
But over this time of grieving, Mike had had more than enough time to wheel over not just El, but the rest of his relationships. And thinking of Will was salt rubbed onto the wound.
Generally Mike had always felt a certain… tug towards Will. His heart ached when they locked eyes, but he was never able to put a name to the feeling. And since all the Upside Down stuff had happened to Will he assumed it was simply concern for his best friend. But in his time of grieving, Mike had discovered something under that; something he had grown to be repulsed by, as well as terrified. Something he had never truly felt for El.
So, when the friend group was invited to a party after graduation, Mike felt like breaking shit. It had already taken all his will and discipline to drag himself to the graduation ceremony, where his mother had taken a hundred tacky pictures of him, and where the principal had given him a patronising, half-hearted smile along with a diploma. To now be asphyxiated by blaring music, neon lights, sweat and alcohol. And Will. The night ahead of him seemed bleak.
Of course, though, his friends would not let the opportunity pass. I mean, it was Stacey who had asked. It was a lifetime opportunity, as Dustin had posed it.
So whatever. Mike would go to the damn party and drink away his feelings. Why not? He had just graduated, anyway. He could ruin himself for one night.
What a horrible idea. Mike thought this to himself as his group got out of Steve’s car, stopped in front of Stacey’s house. You could hear the music bass thumping from inside the house, and obnoxious chatter and laughing. Colored lights flashed from every room and window. Someone was already throwing up on the front porch.
“Uh,” Mike was the last to step out of the car. “Thanks for the ride, dude.” he said to Steve, who shot him a sympathetic look back.
“Just… don’t get too drunk.” Steve replied before hitting the gas and promptly speeding off.
Mike watched the car leave, suddenly regretting every decision he ever made that had let up to this.
“Mike! C’mon!” Dustin called out, the others a few steps ahead of him. “We have a party to attend!”
He sighed to himself and caught up with them.
As they all walked to the front door, his friends chatting excitedly, Mike and Will locked eyes for a second. There was something indistinguishable in Will’s gaze.
“Are you okay?” Will whispered, kindly. Ever-patient. As he had been for years.
But Mike simply ignored the question and looked away, irritation flaring.
Lucas was the one to knock. However, it was soon clear that the door was unlocked, because someone burst out of the house, half-crying and half-throwing up.
Will shot Mike one last look before they entered.
As the group shuffled in, Stacey went up to Dustin and began to talk with him, with a beam on her face. This earned snickers from Lucas, who seemed thoroughly entertained by the concept of them two flirting. The group quickly began to separate and dissolve into the party noise.
An hour later, Mike was still not having fun in the slightest. He had not worked up the courage to drink from the fruit punch yet, mainly because it smelled way too strong. And the music was only irritating his ears. The lights were too flashy. It was all too much. It was all too fake.
Maybe that was what finally convinced Mike to scoop a generous cup of some random drink and chug it all down at once. The fakeness of it all. People pretending to have fun, pretending like this wasn’t overwhelming. People with not a care in the world.
His mind began to swirl with memories of El. Grief and shame pooled low in his gut, making his surroundings seem even louder, even brighter. He couldn’t escape it. His thoughts were rotting with guilt.
The alcohol burned in his throat the moment he swallowed, but Mike could not care anymore. The main objective now was to forget. He could use a little forgetfulness anyway.
The cups went down rapidly, spilling down his lips and onto his tee. His skin felt slightly sticky and warm to the touch, either due to the drinks or sweat, and Mike felt repulsed by himself. It was getting unbearable. The alcohol was kicking in too slowly. It wasn’t helping fast enough.
He needed to get out of here, and fast.
Stumbling over himself, Mike frantically searched for a bathroom, pushing through crowds of people, his eyes narrowing in the colored lighting. Nausea was beginning to pulsate in his throat. He skipped up the stairs and swung into a random room.
On the other side of the door was Will.
Mike stared at him, his breath hitching. Will was doubled over the sink, his hands on his face.
“Will?” Mike finally muttered. The other whipped his head to face him.
Momentary silence. The music thumped from outside.
“M-Mike,” Will finally regained his composure, quickly wiping his teary eyes. “Couldn’t you knock first?” he forced a chuckle.
The familiar ache in Mike’s heart grew stronger at the sight. He stepped inside completely and shut the door.
“Well, you could’ve locked the door. …What happened?” He tried to keep his tone light.
Will shook his head dismissively, his movements sluggish. “It’s- it’s nothing.”
“Bullshit.”
“Seriously, Mike-”
“Hey.” Mike stepped closer again, putting a hesitant hand on his shoulder. “I’m here for you. We’re best friends, after all.” For some reason, that sounded bitter to even say.
At his words, Will burst into tears.
Mike’s eyes widened and he tightened the grip on his shoulder. “Wha-”
Will swatted the hand away with a tiny sob. “I’m so tired, Mike!”
Mike considered that Will was definitely drunk too. He had never seen him so… aggressive.
“Of- of what?”
“Of this!” Will gestured vaguely between them. “Of whatever the fuck we have going on!”
Mike stared at him incredulously. “I don’t… understand…”
“‘Best friends’. Seriously? Is that all we’ve ever had? Nothing else? Nothing at all?!” Will’s words slurred together.
Mike was beginning to feel nauseous again. This time, it was unfair to blame solely the drinks. He stepped back from Will, his coordination lacking. The shame was beginning to burn in his chest again, but this time it was mixed in with something else.
“Will, calm down. I don’t get what you mean!” his voice heightened in defense, his hands raised in front of him.
“Yes you do!” Will was practically yelling now. Even with their distance, the smell of alcohol on Will’s breath was unmistakable.
Now, Mike began to feel the buzz through his body, warm and daring. Better late than never, I guess. His thoughts started to blur.
He shuffled forward again. “Please, let’s just… talk it out.”
But Will did not reciprocate, irritated, but calmer. “No, Mike. I know that you’re grieving, but I am too. And I’ve been so, so… patient. I refuse to only ‘talk it out’ when we’re- both drunk.”
Mike gazed at him. “You’re drunk?”
“Yeah,” Will responded, sniffling. Then he let out a lazy laugh. “I thought it was obvious.”
“Actually… it was.” Mike almost laughed back. Suddenly everything seemed funny.
By now the alcohol was hitting both of them hard. Their dozy laughter died down. Silence filled the bathroom again.
The music outside was blasted so loud that it made everything vibrate under their feet. The bathroom light was dim and tainted yellow. A small window let the stuffy summer air and moonlight seep through, casting blue light as well.
Mike finally looked back at Will, who was doubled over the sink again. He himself leaned against the door and groaned.
“So, this ‘Tammy’…” Mike began. “The one you mentioned at the time. Did you ever… get with him?”
Will audibly sighed, unmoving. “Obviously not.”
“Why?”
“...I never had the guts to confess.”
“Oh.” Mike was beginning to sweat. The air was too hot.
“I mean. I tried to send signals. But… he didn’t get them. Or maybe he did, and simply didn’t feel the same. I don’t know.” Will’s words were properly slurred now.
“Signals like what?” Mike let his eyes close.
Will didn’t respond for a long moment. Then, with a rueful chuckle: “Like a painting.”
Huh?
The realization hit Mike like a brick.
His heart skipped a beat. His eyes shot open. “What?”
Will lifted his head and turned to Mike with a sorrowful grin. “Yeah. I, uh… made him this painting of our DnD characters… it was so stupid.”
Mike suddenly wished he had not drank at all. He could not process this with the fuzziness in his mind. “I was your Tammy?” he murmured after a long moment. Will nodded slowly.
For a second, Mike waited for Will to laugh. To take it back. To say he meant something else. Anything else.
But he didn’t.
Mike’s childhood flared in front of his eyes. Everything was suddenly falling into place – the hesitance towards El, the futile arguments, avoiding Will. The shame.
It all began to make sense. And it felt so wrong… but also so goddamn right.
Gingerly, Mike stepped closer to Will, pulling him up so he stood completely. Will watched him, confused.
“You should’ve told me.” he hissed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Mike-”
“No!” Mike’s voice was turning whiny and demanding. “Why didn’t you tell me?!”
“And why the hell would I do that?” Will shot back.
“Because- ‘cus-...” his words trailed off.
Will’s eyes filled with tears once more. “Because what, Mike?”
Mike tried again. “Because we’re supposed to… be there for each other! And to trust each other!”
Only then did they notice how close their faces were; they could feel each other’s breath, warm on their lips, and their chests were almost touching.
All anger dissolved. Something incoherent was pulling Mike closer, closer. He reached up and placed his hands on Will’s shoulders. He could feel Will twitch slightly in surprise, but neither of them moved back.
“...Well… I’m… I’m sorry…” Will’s voice was low and thick from crying. A thin sheen of sweat made his skin glisten.
It was so hot in here. The air was so unbearably thick. And Will looked so unbearably good.
Mike’s hands slid from Will’s shoulders, down his arms, slowly, before sliding back up and resting on Will’s jaw. It was like his body moved on its own.
“What are you doing?” Will whispered, his breaths coming out short.
“I don’t know.” Mike replied cautiously. His voice was shaky.
Their faces were barely a few inches away now.
“We can’t-”
“I know.” He cut Will off. They seemed equally as unsure. Equally as scared.
“I don’t understand, Mike.” Will whispered, his breath tingling on Mike’s lips.
He shivered. “What if… I don’t want to be your Tammy?” his heart was racing as he continued. “What if I’m like you?”
They shared a long, silent look.
Will finally spoke up again. “Are you?”
Mike let out a trembling sigh. “I don’t know.”
“Don’t play with our feelings.” Will pleaded. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”
And Will was correct. This was so wrong, it felt so sinful, and Mike could feel shame spiraling wildly in his subconscious. He must’ve lost his damn mind. He was supposed to be grieving his girlfriend that he was supposed to love, but here he was, in the bathroom at a party, holding Will close.
And Mike found he loved the feeling.
“Please,” he breathed.
Will’s gaze softened. “Are you sure about this?”
Mike nodded though his thoughts screamed at him to pull back. He could feel Will shaking in his arms. It terrified him.
“No going back after this.” Will whispered, their faces almost grazing.
But Mike didn’t pull back. Slowly, he nodded again. “No going back.”
And with that, they both leaned in and their lips met halfway.
Holy shit.
The kiss was anything but gentle.
They practically crashed into each other. Electricity coursed through Mike’s body at the feeling of Will’s lips on him, making his hands weaken and fall at Will’s waist. They slammed against the bathroom door. Their breaths were heavy and fast, mingling between their mouths, which fit so perfectly. All the years of tension and yearning were being poured into that one kiss as they gasped against each other.
They couldn’t keep their hands to themselves. Mike gripped onto Will’s waist tighter, hungry, so hungry for him. Will’s hands reached up and curled in Mike’s dark hair, tugging slightly. This earned a weak noise from Mike. He could feel the blush forming on his face.
Without breaking the kiss, Mike raised an arm and locked the door.
His heart was beating at a thousand miles an hour. Their skin glided together due to the heat. Their lips kept meeting again and again, messy, desperate, wild. Adrenaline and pleasure were burning through both of them like wildfire.
Finally, they pulled back, catching their breaths. Will’s eyes were glossy. His lips were reddened and plump. Mike could practically see the stars.
Then they broke into a laugh.
“And… and they said… drunk people can’t kiss.” Will giggled in a hushed tone.
Mike pulled him closer, more elegantly this time. “How are you not a lousy kisser? You’ve… never kissed before.” he grinned.
Will grinned back. “You’re pretty decent at kissing too.”
They laughed again, but it quickly died down as they gazed at each other. Mike’s hands lay affectionately on Will’s back. His heart had never ached this good.
Mike was still breathing heavily. “Can we… again?”
Without hesitating, Will leaned in and cut him off.
This time, it was different.
There was something more cautious about this time. It was slow. Like they were thinking it through, like they wanted to feel every moment properly. It was tender.
Their lips locked and began to move, languidly, savoring the sensation. Mike’s whole body was buzzing with pleasure and love.
Love?
He smiled into the kiss, which made Will smile back.
He loved this boy.
It was a truth settling quickly in Mike’s chest. And he had expected it to be burdening and painful. And so confusing.
But this wasn’t the case.
This felt like exactly where he was supposed to be. Kissing Will away from the rest of the world, holding him close.
He loved this boy!
Even the haziness in his mind couldn’t stop him from this realization. Nothing could.
They parted again. Mike’s eyes were big and shiny.
“I’m sorry we haven’t done this before.” he muttered.
Will laughed quietly. “It’s alright… you’re making up for it now.”
“Will, I…” his words trailed off. Mike tried to sound as sober as possible. “I think… I wanna be with you. I mean… I’m still… shocked at myself… and I feel like I’m sinning… but it feels… right.” he glanced down at Will’s lips, then back up at his eyes. “And you?”
Will listened to him intently. His face lit up with hope. “Yeah. Yeah, I wanna be with you too, Mike.”
Mike smiled timidly, suddenly feeling embarrassed. “I can’t… process this right now. But… promise me, tomorrow, when we’re awfully hung over… we’ll talk this out. Okay?”
Will nodded, his gaze warm but equally as dazed. “Okay, Mike. I promise.”
Nothing else mattered in that moment. In the days to come there would be a lot to address. It wouldn’t be easy. But Mike knew that he didn’t want to lose his life wondering what could’ve been. Not again.
So, as the music blared from outside, and as the warmth of alcohol wore off, Mike and Will continued to hold onto each other, letting the rest of the night fall away behind them.