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It’s been eighteen months since they defeated Vecna and the Mind Flayer, since El sacrificed herself (although Mike likes to imagine that she’s alive and off on her own somewhere), and since Hawkins finally started to move on from everything that started happening ever since Will disappeared. The party is all about to go off to college in the fall, and Mike is afraid of what will happen when they all go off to different schools. He’s leaving Hawkins but staying in Indiana. Everyone else is leaving the state completely, and that terrifies him.
So now, they’re playing DnD once more on graduation night, and really, there’s no telling when they’ll all get to play together again.
Mike thinks about El a lot, but not in the way that he’s supposed to, probably. When he had thought for a moment that day that she’d escaped, he’d been filled with immense relief. He was relieved that she would finally be free, and that she wouldn’t have to die to get away from Dr. Kay and all the other people who wouldn’t stop until they had her.
There had also been a part of him, though, that was relieved that that was how their story would end, with her escaping on her own, and the two of them not having to break up or stay together. They’d been drifting apart for a very long time, and he was pretty sure they both knew it, but neither one of them had the heart to actually end it. El going off on her own would have been as good a reason as any to let go of what they’d once had, and it would’ve been a cleaner end to their relationship than if he’d had to really think through it all and make the call himself.
But, of course, she was planning on sacrificing herself. He was devastated to see her die, and he’d hoped to change her mind, so when she pulled him into her void, he played the part of the type of boyfriend he’d been trying to be for years. He couldn’t fix everything—and once again, he couldn’t even tell her that he loved her after she said it first—but he kissed her. He reminisced with her. He did what he was supposed to, and she still left, so maybe it wasn’t his fault, or maybe it was because he just couldn’t say that he loved her. The thought of her alive and by herself somewhere, it brought him peace. It meant that she was okay, that she could move forward and be happy again. It also took the pressure off of him.
The thing about your girlfriend dying, or at least having to fake her death, is that people don’t expect you to move on quickly—or ever, even, he suspects. Nobody is suspicious about why Mike isn’t interested in any of the girls at Hawkins High. None of the party are in relationships anyways, aside from Lucas and Max. Dustin says that he’s exploring his options, but he still speaks to Suzie sometimes, and Mike figures that they will eventually probably work things out.
And Will… well, the Venn Diagram of people who know that Will is gay and know about the Upside Down is basically a circle. Will doesn’t date, but he tells the party all the time that it will be different in college. He will be able to be out in New York, maybe get a boyfriend. Mike can see this future for Will easily, and it always gives him a little pit in his stomach, thinking of Will moving forward with his life just like that. Even though it’s what he deserves.
Mike still feels bad that Will never felt like he could tell him that he was gay until it was necessary to defeat Vecna, for everything he said before he knew for sure, for not knowing what Will was going through when he was dealing with that crush on whoever the hell his “Tammy” was. Mike has never figured out who the guy was, but he’s always assumed it was some guy in Lenora, because Will hasn’t showed an interest in any guy at Hawkins High this last year-and-a-half. Mike wonders if they still keep in touch. He wouldn’t know even if they did. Will doesn’t talk to Mike about his sexuality or his love life very much, and Mike tries not to push. He does wonder a lot, though.
*
So, on the night of their high school graduation, the party plays what could be their last game of DnD for a long time in Mike’s basement, and they actually come through victorious. Then, Mike wraps up the campaign by imagining each of his friend’s futures, as a good Dungeon Master would. He describes a movie date for Lucas and Max like the many they’ve had before, and he gives Dustin a good college experience and a road trip with Steve. It’s coming up with Will’s future that’s the hardest for him. It doesn’t come naturally to Mike to envision a future for Will that he’s not in.
“As for Will the Wise, he travels far and long to the bustling city of Vallaki. It’s overwhelming at first, so very different from the village where he spent his youth. But it isn’t long before he finds his place there, and with that, deep happiness and acceptance.”
Mike goes into more detail than just the campaign, for each of them, so that they can picture his futures for them in their heads. He does the same for Will, adding, “Will the Wise already knows who he is, but he lives out loud in this new land. He no longer has to hold back. This draws people to him even more than they already are drawn to him.”
“Thanks, Mike.”
Will smiles at him, but it’s still in that kind of cautious and held back way that he has been doing with Mike most of the time since he came out. Will looks nervous, fiddling with the necklace that Mike got him for his eighteenth birthday. It’s a black cord with two charms: one that represents a paladin, and one that represents a cleric. Will gave Mike one of his old smiles and teared up when Mike gave it to him, and he never takes it off. The memory of it makes Mike want to try to bring out that sort of genuine smile out of Will again, so he writes a romance for him to wrap up the campaign, even though the thought of Will with some random guy makes him feel queasy.
“One night, after Will the Wise has had enough time to become comfortable in the land of Vallaki and to meet people that he connects with, he goes out to a tavern, a place that exists to embrace people like him.” In case he’s not being clear enough, Mike breaks the DnD illusion to say, “A gay bar.”
“Yeah, no, we got that,” Lucas says. Will snorts. Mike rolls his eyes and continues.
“Will the Wise sits at the bar, has a beer, smokes a cigarette or two, and settles in. He’s going to be there a while.”
“Wait, what?” Will says, wrinkling his nose. “You lost me there. I’m not going to suddenly take up drinking or smoking.”
“Will the Wise needs to be patient and trust the storyteller,” Mike says. Will rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling, and Mike continues.
“As he sits at the bar, Will the Wise smiles softly to himself, because he’s waiting, but he’s not impatient—our Will the Wise could learn a thing or two from him.”
“Mike.”
“Will the Wise is not impatient, because knows that he will arrive. And sure enough, Will the Wise’s prince walks right through the door and joins him. There’s no big reunion or sweeping gesture. It’s comfortable, casual, like they do this every day, because they probably do. It’s easy.”
Mike has more to say, but Lucas interrupts him.
“And in this vision, is Will the Wise wearing his necklace?” Lucas asks. He exchanges a look with the other three that Mike doesn’t get, but it makes him feel irritated. Lucas, Max, and Dustin all look like they know something, while Will just looks nervous.
“What? Of course he is,” Mike mutters.
“I’ll bet he is,” Dustin says.
“Can you let the storyteller finish?”
“Wait, so Will the Wise’s prince doesn’t care?” Lucas adds. “It doesn’t bother him?”
“No, of course not. Why would it bother him? I feel like you’re getting too caught up in the details. Maybe Will the Wise’s hair is different, or he dresses different, but he’s still wearing the necklace. He’ll always wear the necklace. Right?” That last part is addressed to Will, and it slips out because Mike suddenly feels self-conscious.
“Right,” Will says immediately, and Mike relaxes.
“Now, where was the storyteller before he was so rudely interrupted? Will the Wise and his prince don’t even kiss; the prince just sits right down beside the sorcerer. But their… their unwavering connection, it’s obvious to everyone around them, and they don’t have to hide. Will the Wise looks over at his prince with his wavy brown hair and his canvas jacket and a loving look in his eyes, and he casually touches his arm like he’s done so many times before.”
Here, Mike ventures a gaze at Will. And as unsettling as it is to picture Will with someone else, it is all so worth it now, because Will is beaming at him. His eyes are wide with surprise and joy and just pure emotion, and he’s almost on the verge of tears. His grin is the widest Mike has seen it directed at him since Mike gave him the necklace. He looks at Mike like he’s just said exactly what he’s been wanting to hear for a very long time. Mike wonders if it’s that maybe he didn’t make Will feel supported enough after he came out, or because he’s grateful that Mike is supportive of a future where he moves on in New York and probably never comes back home. Both options make his stomach twist.
Lucas gives Will a pointed look that Mike doesn’t quite get, to which Will blushes and softly lifts his eyebrows in response. Mike can’t even begin to interpret what this means, so he just tries to focus on the story.
“Will the Wise’s prince is handsome and kind, and he’s fully devoted to Will. He looks at Will like he’s the only person in the room, which he always does. He looks at him like he would stop breathing if anything ever happened to him, and he probably would.”
“And who is this prince?” Max interrupts, an odd look on her face and a small smirk forming at the corner of her mouth. She and Will seem to be in the middle of an unspoken conversation with their eyes. Mike wishes they would share with the class, but not right now. Not when he’s on a roll, and he’s just made Will smile like that. Mike hadn’t thought that far beyond just picturing a random guy that he sees a lot in a cereal commercial that airs all the time. The party always makes fun of the commercial, but Lucas told Mike once that Will thinks the guy is cute.
“Okay, this guy, ah… perhaps he’s a regal prince from a peaceful kingdom that Will the Wise met in the faraway land of Vallaki, or, ah…” Mike feels like he needs to make the story better, to keep embellishing to make Will happier, to keep him invested in the story, so he adds. “Or maybe it’s that guy he used to like.”
Now, Will is actually crying, but he looks really happy, Mike thinks. He’s not completely sure. He thinks he said the right thing, even though it makes him nauseous to think about this guy, Will’s first crush, coming back into his life. Especially if Will still cries thinking about him.
“What?” Will whispers.
“You know, his ‘Tammy.’ Maybe they find their way back to each other.” And then, worried he’s said the wrong thing, Mike adds, “Unless he’s over him?”
“He’s not,” Will says immediately, his voice hoarse. “He thought he was, tried to convince himself that he was… but no, he’s not. He doesn’t think he ever will be.”
Mike feels something unpleasant in his chest then. He wonders about this “Tammy” of Will’s, whatever that means and whoever he is, and he bets that Will will reunite with him in New York when he goes off to college in a few months. Almost definitely, if this is the way Will reacts when he thinks about the guy. Mike can’t imagine the guy not reciprocating, even if Will’s convinced that the guy likes girls. After all, Mike likes girls too, and— Mike doesn’t let himself finish that thought.
Max leans over to Will and whispers “Should we go?” but it’s loud and Mike catches it.
“Nobody is going anywhere,” Mike declares. “The campaign is not over.” They can’t leave, not yet, but he’s running out of ideas. Luckily, Will jumps in.
“And the storyteller?” Will says gently. “What about him?”
“The storyteller keeps telling stories. Stories inspired by his friends.”
Mike describes a future where he becomes a writer, sharing the stories of everything they’ve battled with the rest of the world, as honest as he can be with the public, under the guise of fiction. And then he tells them about the better future that he’s imagined for El, what he has convinced himself is really her ending, where she still lives and both of them move on, letting each other go, albeit far too late.
Mike adds, “And, uh… well, he goes off to college, too. Never forgets about his friends, even though he pours everything into becoming a writer, and really because he’s becoming a writer, and after all, he’s telling their story—most of their story, anyways. He sits at his desk every day, puts on his glasses, and writes from his heart.”
“Now wait, just to clarify, would you reckon that Will the Wise’s prince wears glasses, too?” Dustin asks.
“What?” Mike asks, annoyed and confused. “What does that have to do with anything?”
Will shoots Dustin a look and then says, “You were telling us about the storyteller.”
“Right. The storyteller. Thank you, Will the Wise. The storyteller keeps the painting that his best friend—his sorcerer—made for him, to inspire him, hanging in his dorm room. He looks at it all the time. It makes him feel brave, and decent, and like maybe he hasn’t screwed everything up after all.”
“Wait, you know about the painting?” Will asks, startled.
“The storyteller knows,” Mike says.
Mike wraps up the rest of the story pretty quickly after that, and soon enough, the others all clear out. Will is the last to go, and he puts his book on the shelf, getting ready to go upstairs.
“Goodnight, Mike,” Will says. “This was a great campaign. And I know it was a long time ago and I should’ve told you, but I’m sorry I lied about the painting.” Mike freezes, unsure how to respond, so Will starts to leave. He’s about halfway up the stairs when Mike says:
“Will, wait.”
Will pauses and turns around, still standing on the steps. Mike will see him tomorrow anyways, but for some reason, this feels too final. He can’t leave, not yet. Mike can’t bear it.
“What did you think of the ending?” Mike asks.
“I loved it,” Will says. “Especially mine.” And then, after a pause, “And yours.”
“Yeah?” Mike says. “What did you like about your ending?”
“Everything,” Will says, walking back down the stairs to join him, “Especially… especially that prince you described.”
Mike deflates. Will turns to stand at the bottom of the stairs. He’s just out of arm’s reach of Mike, and Mike wishes he could just reach out and grab him, hold onto him. He just stands there instead.
“Oh,” Mike says. “You mean your ‘Tammy?’”
“Now, actually, I don’t even think he was my Tammy after all,” Will says softly, looking away from him. “I think maybe Vecna got in my head, or I did, and then so much happened and so much time passed, and I kept trying to move on, but I just couldn’t, you know?”
“Sure,” Mike says icily. Will immediately picks up on this takes a couple steps back from him. Mike adds, “What’s a ‘Tammy,’ anyways?”
“It’s nothing,” Will says, shutting down at Mike’s tone. Mike panics, moves forward, and grabs one of Will’s shoulders, letting his own face soften.
“Tell me,” Mike urges. Will nods.
“A ‘Tammy’ is that first great all-consuming love, particularly for someone like me, someone who’s gay. This person, they take up all your thoughts and make you feel special, and you dream about being with them, but they’re not like you, so you have to move on.”
“Oh,” Mike says. “But you’re not sure if he’s… like you?”
“I thought I was, but no, not anymore,” Will says. “We haven’t exactly talked about it, not really, not like that. But now… the way he talks about our future together, the way he envisions something more for the two of us, where he’s my—my prince, um, I think he might be.”
“He calls himself your prince?!” Mike shouts.
Will looks alarmed. Mike probably shouldn’t be shouting. It’s just that Will had said when he moved to Lenora that he wouldn’t be playing DnD with anyone else, and now, apparently, it turns out that this guy’s into DnD, too, and he’s Will’s knight in freaking shining armor, it seems. Will’s Tammy, Mike’s ass. This guy is obviously crazy about Will, even if he can’t see it.
“Well, yeah, I mean, I thought…” Will stumbles over his words, flustered, and then he seems to realize something that has him panicking and moving out of Mike’s reach again. “Wait, Mike, who were you talking about when you said I would meet up with my prince in a gay bar in New York?”
Mike can’t believe he has to walk Will through this. He probably should have just kept it vague. Because now Will’s picturing some guy from Lenora when Mike just happened to choose the “Mm, crunchy” guy from that one cereal commercial for him. He’s irritated to have to give Will advice about this guy, but Will always did that for him and El. He even pretended his painting was from El to try to fix Mike and El’s relationship. And it worked for a while too, even after El expressed a disinterest in DnD one too many times and Mike realized one day that the painting was never from her. Even when he looked back on all that stuff that Will had said to him in the van and realized it was from him, but platonically, instead of romantically from El.
“Just a guy!” Mike says. And then, because it’s what Will wants to hear, “Probably your Tammy.”
“Well, that’s what I thought, but now, I—I don’t know.”
“Does he even know how you feel?”
“He’s known for a long time,” Will says. “Eighteen months.”
Eighteen months? That doesn’t make any sense. Because that would mean Will was sneaking secret adoring letters or calls or whatever to his Tammy out of a barricaded Hawkins when they were supposed to be saving the world.
“And?” Mike says, irritated.
“I don’t know,” Will says. “What does the storyteller say?” Mike gets even more annoyed here.
“Well, how should I know, Will?” Mike says. Will’s face falls. “I’m just a Dungeon Master; I can’t read your Tammy’s mind. If you want to know how he feels, then call him or write to him or however it is that you communicate with each other. Hell, go visit him in Lenora this summer, even.”
“Lenora?” Will asks, his face scrunching up and going from devastated to confused. “Why would I go back to Lenora?”
“Because he lives there, right?” Mike says. “I didn’t think it was someone here in Hawkins.” Will’s jaw drops. At least he doesn’t look upset or hurt anymore. He just looks baffled.
“What? No. Is that—is that what you’ve thought all this time? That my…crush, he was someone I met in Lenora?”
“He’s not?”
“No! He lives in Hawkins.”
“Where?”
“Here.”
“Where here?”
“In this—in this house!” Will shouts, exasperated, his hands flying like he does when his thoughts are going too quickly. “In your room! And I never, never thought he would ever feel the same way, and I was so sure about that fact that I lied and told him that the painting I poured everything into for months wasn’t even from me, and then he started acting different when we lived together and I let myself hope again, but I realized it was impossible and I forced myself to move on and I accepted that it wasn’t a possibility, but he always seems to pay attention to everything I have to say, and he gives me jewelry that represents the two of us, and now he’s spinning a future for me where the two of us meet up in a gay bar and walk off into the sunset together, so I’m just a little bit confused!”
And Mike may be a bit oblivious, but he finally picks up on it. His mind starts rapidly replaying everything over the years, all the times Will looked at him in a way that made his stomach flip, that Will said things to him that felt like they meant more than he let on, the painting, the way he spoke about his crush when he came out and then looked right at Mike, the conversation they had right after Will came out. Mike had been shocked and devastated that Will would ever think that Mike would’ve wanted to stop being friends just because he was gay.
But that wasn’t what Will meant, Mike realizes now. He had confessed to Mike that he had a crush on him. Not just a crush, based on what Will just said, either. An all-consuming love. And he’d thought that Mike had picked up on it, that it would make Mike not want to be friends anymore. All this time. All this time, and Will thought Mike knew, that he didn’t—that he didn’t feel the same way. And he never said anything.
Will is still talking, and even though Mike is currently lost in his head trying to put all of this together, he’s still been listening to everything Will has been saying.
“And I really did think I was over the prince, that it had all been in my head,” Will says. “But sometimes he still makes me wonder. And then I thought, maybe he does feel the same and he just needs time to recover from this awful loss that he went through, of his first love, our friend, that we’re all still dealing with—but I don’t know, I guess the future he imagined for me is just with some other prince who just looks and dresses like him—I’m sorry, Mike, I can’t speak in code anymore, I’m so embarrassed. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
Will starts to leave again, which snaps Mike out of his thoughts. He reaches out and grabs his arm.
“You thought I was talking about me? In your campaign ending?” Mike asks. Will just nods.
“And that’s why you liked the ending?” Mike asks.
“Yeah,” Will says. “Look, I really don’t want to keep talking about this—”
“And your Tammy, that guy you liked, that was me?”
“Come on, Mike, you know the answer to that already.”
“I don’t. It never even occurred to me.”
“You really didn’t know?” Will asks, skeptical. Mike’s heart skips.
“I really didn’t know,” Mike whispers. “So, does that mean you still—?”
“It’s not a big deal, Mike. I don’t want it to ruin our friendship. I can get over it again, especially when we all go off to college.”
“No,” Mike says. “Don’t. I just—do you still—?” And his eyes are filling up with tears, and he’s grabbing onto Will’s shirt collar for dear life.
“Yeah, I do. Of course I do,” Will says. And he’s opening his mouth to say something else, but he doesn’t get to say it, because Mike pulls him closer and kisses him. Will kisses him back for a moment, but then he pulls away, looking into Mike’s eyes. Will looks uncertain, and Mike realizes that he hasn’t yet told Will how he feels. Mike doesn’t even have to tell him a story this time.
“Look, I did love El, still even, but not—not in the way that I think I was supposed to,” Mike says. “And I wish she’d stuck around, and that we all could’ve stayed friends. But she and I wouldn’t still be a couple if she had. I couldn’t even tell her I loved her back when she sacrificed himself, when we said goodbye in her void right before. I tried so hard, but it was never easy with her, or any girl, or anyone actually, but—but you.”
“Really?” Will whispers. Mike nods.
“And I didn’t know that you felt that way about me, but I know about the painting, and I—I think I’ve kind of known about my own feelings for a while. I just haven’t really let my mind go there. Because even after you said that you liked boys, I never thought that you could like me like that.”
“I thought I was so obvious,” Will says, laughing while tears stream down his cheeks.
Mike kisses him again, and this time, Will really kisses him back.
After a little while, Mike says, “You weren’t obvious to me at all. I wish you’d said something.”
“I didn’t see the point of messing everything up between us if you’d never feel the same way,” Will says.
“That’s crazy, Will,” Mike says. “Of course I love you.”
“What?” Will’s eyes widen.
“I think I always have. I just wish I’d known sooner. I would’ve applied to a bunch of New York schools.”
At this, Will laughs. He immediately says, “I love you, too, Mike,” but then he pauses as if weighing whether to say his next words out loud. Finally, he clears his throat.
“I can handle long-distance,” Will says. “If—if you can.” And Mike knows he’s thinking about Lenora then, and it makes him feel bad.
“Of course I can. It’ll be different this time. I’ll write you letters every day.”
“Well, I don’t need letters every day.”
“Every day. And I’ll call all the time, too. Although, to be fair, I called you a lot last time, but your mom was always on the phone.”
“I don’t think a dorm phone will be much better.”
“I don’t care. I’ll wait. I’ll wait forever,” Mike says. “Besides, it’s just one year, and then I’ll transfer.”
“You don’t have to transfer,” Will says, but his eyes light up at the idea, making Mike feel giddy.
“Don’t get too comfortable in New York without me,” Mike says.
“Not possible.”
Mike kisses Will again, but then they’re interrupted by the sound of Holly and her friends banging on the door, impatient to play their own game of DnD. They’re complaining about the delay, but Mike doesn’t care one bit. He would’ve made them wait longer. But Will just laughs and then goes over to the shelf and puts Mike’s DnD book right next to his.
As they leave the basement together, holding each other’s hands once they’re out of sight of Holly and her friends and now in the empty hallway, Will says, “Were you really not referring to yourself when you wrote me a future boyfriend?”
“No,” Mike says, “I was thinking it would be some random guy. I was actually picturing that guy that says ‘Mm, crunchy’ in that one cereal commercial that we always make fun of. Lucas told me once that you said he was cute.”
“Really?” Will laughs, delighted. “Mike, he looks so much like you. I’ve told you that before, multiple times.”
“Well, you never said I was cute.”
“You’re very cute,” Will says, kissing his cheek. There’s nobody around, so Mike sneaks another real kiss. Will smiles against his mouth.
Will stays for dinner, and then later, as Mike walks Will out to the car that he borrowed from Jonathan, he starts asking Will about different writing programs in New York City, and Will dutifully tells him everything he knows off the top of his head. Mike kisses Will goodbye and then sees him off, standing on the front porch as he watches him drive away. He doesn’t feel sad as he watches Will leave, though. For the first time in a while, Mike feels excited about the future, because he knows his sorcerer will be right there beside him.