Chapter Text
Believe it or not, Dustin’s pretty smart with emotions.
He’s not perfect, sure. He often says the bad, stupid thing, or reads the room embarrassingly wrong. But in comparison to the others in the party, he’d say he’s pretty good at it.
He knows how to comfort people, when to reassure them or when he needs to smack some sense into them, and for being an 11 year old boy, he’s pretty emotionally mature and sound.
That skill is being put to use, today.
Because now, Will, poor sweet Will, his dearest friend, is possibly dead. And- that’s a lot. Like… a lot. He can’t even fully remember last night, the blur he was in as he biked home, all he remembers is sobbing himself to sleep, the moment of seeing the police pull up his body from the lake replaying over and over again in his mind, and waking up exhausted and pent up.
But despite all that- he is now here, at the Wheeler house, fighting to prove it wrong, to prove that he’s alive. That he’s safe, that he’s okay, that they can save him, with the help of El.
Of-course, though, it’s not that easy. Nope. Not at all. Because leave it to Mike ‘Brooding’ Wheeler, the one who made him get out of bed in the first place instead of just allowing him the opportunity to sleep in and cry, to be in a mood.
Lucas has given up on trying to make the stubborn guy feel better, taking over on giving El her makeover. To her credit, Dustin notes, she’s a very patient girl. While she seems eager to help, she hasn’t pushed, just listening to directions and letting them make her look…less noticeable. No offense to her, but she stands out a little too much, which isn’t good when they’re currently trying to hide her from… okay the list is too long. All of Hawkins. They’re keeping her a secret from all of Hawkins, essentially.
But anyway- Mike is sad. As usual. And against his better judgement, Dustin is set on making him feel better. So as Lucas tries to style El’s wig as she sits straight up and watches him with a neutral expression, he curls up next to the brooding boy. Who doesn’t notice him at all. He’s zoned out, staring at the wall.
“Earth to Micheal, ya there?” Mike flinches when he hears his name, turning to Dustin quickly. He sighs when he realizes it’s just him. He looks strangely small when he’s scared, he actually feels like the little 11 year old boy he truly is deep down, innocent and worried and scared, scared that he’s going to lose Will, that he already has. He can’t help but empathize, it’s not often he sees Mike so…vunerable. Sometimes it’s a pleasant surprise, but other times it’s just a sad sight.
“God- don’t scare me like that asshole. Jesus. It is not hard to warn a guy that you're gonna sit next to him, you jackass.”
Okay never mind, he takes it back. He doesn’t feel bad. Mike can rot in hell. (He doesn’t mean that. He loves Mike. He just wishes he wasn’t such a pain in his fucking ass. Especially when he’s trying to simply help.)
He simply rolls his eyes in reply, instead of cussing him out like he wants. Unfortunately, swearing at people and calling them sons of bitches isn’t exactly comforting. “Whatever, just- are you okay?”
Mike acts like Dustin’s words are a threat, his shoulder tensing as he stares wide eyed at him. Eventually, after a second of silence, he returns to a more neutral annoyed expression. “I’m fine.”
“You’ve been mopping right here for the entire time we’ve been giving El her makeover.” He points out, and Mike frowns.
“So? Does it matter?”
“Yes, it does, because I can tell something is bugging you and I’m not letting you go until I help you.”
Mike scowls at him, furrowing his brows. “I don't need your goddamn help, Dustin.”
“Sure ya don’t,” He snarks back, daring to place a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Come on, Mike. Just talk to me.”
He doesn’t think his softer tone works on Mike, because while he looks a little surprised and taken aback, shocked that his armour of anger and snark didn’t push him away like intended, he doesn't seem ready to talk about it. He opens his mouth to say something, only to huff and turn away. “It’s whatever. It doesn’t matter.”
Now every part of Dustin is screaming to pry, simply because it’s not just ‘whatever’. But he knows how Mike can be, he’s annoyingly stubborn. If he pushes anymore he’s gonna get chewed out and told off. Personally, he’d rather not have that happen. Frankly they have more important things at hand and the last thing any of them need is a Mike Meltdown.
So he carries on, deciding to let go of the idea of ‘talking about his problems’ because it’s clearly not what Mike needs right now. Maybe comfort could do some good?
He hesitantly opens up his arms, offering a hug. His friend seems dumbfounded by the offer, if the blank stare his dark brown eyes give him is anything to go by. Mike, surprisingly, is a fan of physical affection from what he’s found. He’s actually the one who initiates it more often than not, if anything. He doesn't seem to know how to react to being offered it though.
“Come on, I’m not gonna bite ya.” he jokes, trying to ease him into it. Mike scoffs a laugh, “Acting like you even have the teeth to do so.” He gasps dramatically, putting one hand onto his heart, though not truly offended, and his friend giggles at it. He can’t help but smile at the sound. It’s like music to his ears, making his fellow party members laugh.
Mike, with a bunch of hesitance, scooches closer to Dustin, accepting the hug offer. He wraps his arms around him tightly, nuzzling his face into his shoulder. Dustin does the same. It’s a warm moment, a soft one. There’s no words, for a while, but by the way Mike’s shoulders and body relax into him, he can assume it’s helpful. He’s glad.
“…I’m scared.” The black haired boy whispers after a while, and Dustin hums to show he’s listening, moving his hand to rub circles into his back. “I…Dustin I don’t wanna lose him…I don’t want him to be gone.”
“I know, Mike, I don’t either,” he soothes, “But I’m sure we’ll find him, alive and safe. He’s our Will, you know him, he’s strong. He’ll survive, I’m sure. We’re doing everything we can from here, and the police are on it too. Somebody’s bound to find him, if not our local superhero El the Witch.”
Mike makes a soft noise between a snort and a sniffle. “Well she’s more like…a mage, actually.”
“Oh you son of a bitch your right.”
And that earns real true laughter out of his friend, which he is definitely not helping with by poking his sides in anguish. “You dare laugh when you're out-nerding me?! Wow, how cruel Micheal, how cruel.”
“You're not helping asshole!”
Mike, without any true malice, pushes himself off of Dustin and shoves his shoulders lightly. Dustin can only chuckle, the brightest smile across his face. His friend rolls his eyes seeing it, but shifts his lips into a softer smile.
“…Thank you, for that.” He whispers, soft and vulnerable, a touch nervous too. He’s not one to thank others for something like this, and it makes his heart feel warm. He ruffles his hair, “No problem, Micheal.”
He suddenly glares at him when he pulls away, the tips of his ears a bit red. “Don’t call me Micheal.”
“Why not?”
“Becuase it’s…weird.”
“You say weird, I say funny.”
“More like humiliating…”
“Deal with it fucker.”
“Oh that’s it-”
Next thing he knows, Mike flicks his hat down, and he gasps in offense, ruins and fluffs up his hair even more, and now suddenly they’re wrestling on the couch. Which, he’s winning, of course.
It’s only playful though, he knows. They both do. He’s just happy he finally got his friend to stop brooding around, he looks nicer with a smile on his face. Through the corner of his eye, he can see Lucas and El gently smiling at their antics, and he has to wonder how it must’ve been seeing this second hand.
Whatever, regardless, a Mike Meltdown successfully avoided. And a dear friend successfully cheered up.