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Mike’s absolutely ecstatic with this turn of events.
Everything’s over, the Upside Down is firmly in the past (something that they know for sure unlike the previous years), all of them are relatively alright considering the way it had all started going downhill in the end — but what is best is that he and Will are back to normal.
They’re great, actually, they’re better than ever.
It had been something that had scared Mike — that they were over, that there was nothing left, and that Will would leave Mike behind and not look back. And, well, Mike would have had to let him go, because he’d been totally horrible and he would have deserved it.
And so, when he’d offered (more like, demanded it and dared others to comment) that Will could share his room with him, he didn’t know what to expect. Maybe for Will to scoff or roll his eyes or worse, reel back in disgust.
Instead, Will had stared at him across the dinner table with a furrow between his brows, mouth pensive and a visible clench to his jaw. He hadn’t looked upset — he’d looked contemplative. It had made little pricks of lightning zip up his veins and into his spine, being looked at that way, and Mike had tried his hardest not to waver.
Whatever Will had seen in his eyes, he’d seemed satisfied with it, though still stone-faced and he’d leaned back into the chair, exhaling a breath that no one else except Mike seemed to catch.
He’d relented with a barely audible, “Yeah, alright,” and Mike had taken it for the win it was and in the most impulsive move ever, had stretched out his legs and hooked an ankle around one of Will’s. The brunette had looked up at him with another intense, long look and Mike had shot him back a bright, trembling grin, internally wishing that the hope in his eyes wasn’t as obvious as it seemed to himself.
Will didn’t reciprocate Mike’s gesture with anything — whether by word, smile or even by pressing back.
But he hadn’t moved away either.
And now, they're sharing beds like they're kids again, before the Upside Down had come rushing for them, before everything went to shit, before Mike's world ended and then began again.
And he doesn't mean to blow his own horn but his plan has been a resounding success — Will and he have gotten so much closer, almost closer than before (which he hadn't even considered possible but it's so much better now knowing what could've been and what they've moved past).
There's a strange confidence in Will’s movements, maybe emboldened by Mike's own utter shamelessness. He reaches out more often, shoots Mike a self-satisfied smirk when the latter leans in like a touch-starved cat.
It's freeing; he hadn't realised how much he'd missed that easy intimacy until it was gone. An almost cliche sentiment, he supposes ruefully.
When they were kids, Mike would often cling to Will, pulling the shorter one in for a sideways hug, always leading him by the hand, making sure to stay two steps beside him. Will would let Mike drag him around with no complaint, only a small smile and a soft look in his eyes.
He might have gotten used to it then — that unquestioned closeness, that is. Because although he may consider Dustin, Lucas, El and even Max as his best friends, there’s only ever been one that has kept Mike’s attention wholly undivided. One individual by the name of Will Byers.
It’s no wonder then that Mike had gone a little bit insane, his world tilted off its axis, when he’d met Will in California and everything hadn’t magically solved itself. The way Mike would try to catch Will’s gaze, hopeful to find even the barest bones of what he himself had been feeling to be reflected back at him, only to be left wanting.
The memory makes him grimace, curling up tighter into Will. And yeah, isn’t this the greatest improvement? Even though the first few nights had been painfully awkward, Mike had waited patiently, with bated breath, for everything to fall into place. And it had.
Well into their second week of sharing beds, Mike had woken up to find Will plastered against his back, so close he could count each breath wafting against his nape. The sensation had tickled and caused him to shiver, grasping at the nearest object — which had ended up being Will’s arm, slung comfortably across Mike’s torso.
The touch had woken Will up and he’d tensed before going to retreat with a stiffly muttered apology — except, Mike had held onto Will’s arm and mumbled, “It’s cold. Come back.”
Will had remained in that awkward hover for a bit before blowing out a breath and curling back up. He’d left a miniscule amount of space between them but Mike quickly remedied that — he had shuffled backwards until he could feel Will’s chest flush against his back, feel his breath ruffle across the strands of his hair.
Will had gulped, the sound loud in the quiet room before exhaling in a shudder — the hand that Mike had grasped spasmed before loosening and as if he’d finally come to a conclusion, Will tugged Mike closer, as close as they could possible be without gluing themselves together.
Warm and pleased, Mike had let an indulgent smile play at his lips before succumbing to the call of sleep.
And now, Mike has the absolute pleasure of waking up tangled in warmth, and more often than not, him and Will contorted together, holding each other in sleep. It’s glorious — it makes him feel all tingly and honey-smooth inside, the points where they’re in contact almost torching up in delight.
What’s even better is that Will enjoys it almost as much as he does. He clings, palms sure and broad as they keep Mike close, a heavy leg thrown across both of his.
And, well. Case in point: this morning.
Mike had woken before Will, blinking away sleep to find himself pinned beneath Will’s weight, an arm curled around his waist, and Will’s nose nudged into Mike’s hairline. He’s taller than Will but in sleep, he curls up, small enough for Will to drag him close and swallow him up with his thick arms, grip his hand at Mike’s nape and pull him in so that Mike’s nose is pressed against Will’s breastbone.
It’s like this that he woke up and for a few long, bleary moments, he had just breathed in and out, eyes closing once again. But sleep had refused to come despite how hard Mike had clung to it.
Finally giving up, he’d decided he needed a glass of water to soothe his undeniably parched throat. A shame because his usual trusty water bottle seemed to have disappeared from the bedside table and he knew, without a doubt, that he would have to go down into the kitchen to get his water. Sighing, he shifted and wriggled away from Will, letting the blanket pool around his waist as he sat up, gently rubbing away the lingering tiredness from his eyes.
Mid-yawn, he had yelped as an arm had tightened around his waist, pulling him down and under the blankets. Heart racing from the suddenness, Mike had blinked to find Will staring at him, frown at his lips and displeased lines carved into his forehead.
“Where’re you goin’?” He’d asked, voice gruff from sleep, hand tightening around Mike’s waist.
Paying no mind to the inexplicable heat gathering at the apples of his cheeks, Mike had chuckled, gently cupping Will’s face to thumb at his frown. “Just going to get water. I’m parched.”
Will had let out a considering sound, but he hadn’t let go. In fact, his grip had grown stronger, as if making sure Mike couldn’t slip out. For a brief, few moments, they had just breathed together, eyes closed, sharing the same space.
“Stay,” Will had whispered, squeezing closer so that his forehead was supported by Mike’s sternum, a thigh slipping in between Mike’s. His hair had tickled at Mike’s chin.
Mike had exhaled shakily, bringing an arm up to wind around the brunette’s broad shoulders, pulling him in closer. “Alright, alright,” he’d finally acquiesced, tipping his head downwards so he could burrow his nose in Will’s hair. “Guess I’ll get my water later.”
Will had hidden a throaty laugh into Mike’s t-shirt before pressing a feather-light kiss right there, over his thudding heart. “Thanks, baby.”
And Mike had felt the tell-tale flutter of butterflies swarming inside him.
Yeah, he thinks loosely, their shared warmth cradling him, this is my best idea yet.