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The Wheeler basement still smelled like dust and old carpet and stale pizza from the lunch they had before starting that day's game, but somehow that made it feel right. Like nothing had really changed, even though everything had – everyone had. Graduation caps had been tossed into the air just hours earlier. There had been a party invitation too, a real one with music and beer and kids from school they barely talked to. The invitation was to Dustin, but without even a glance to the others he declined. Dustin knew where they really belonged, where they would be happy. The table was set up in the middle of the room, scarred and familiar with years of use. Binders were spread out, pages thrown about the room. The world had almost ended a mere 18 months prior, but tonight it was just the party and Mike's campaign, the way it was always meant to be.
Max lounged back in her chair with her vans hooked around one leg. Lucas sat beside her, focused and steady as ever. Dustin was already vibrating with anticipation, leaning so far forward his chair threatened to tip.
Will sat across from Mike, fingers curled around the pages in his hand, his knee bouncing just slightly. Mike cleared his throat and reached into his bag. Will watched him do it, the way he always did. The way he never quite meant to.
Mike pulled out a cheap plastic pack of vampire teeth and grinned, all sharp edges and confidence with just a touch of the nerdy boy that Will fell for all those years ago. Mike popped them in and leaned forward, elbows on the table.
“Time to join your friends, sorcerer.”
Dustin groaned as Lucas let out a laugh. Max jumped up in frustration, and began knocking things down behind them.
“All that time spent just for it to end like this?” she said through her teeth, as she knocked over more clutter. “There must be something else we can do.”
Will sighed, long and dramatic. “You are insufferable.”
Mike raised an eyebrow. “You love it.”
Will shot him a teasing, dismissive look as he tried to ignore the heat crawling up his neck. He pressed his lips together, fighting the feelings threatening to break loose.
It was stupid, it was adorable, it was Mike – his Mike.
Dustin suddenly shot upright. “The Mage,” he said, eyes wide. “She said we could summon her at our lowest point.”
The table erupted into movement. Binders were yanked open, pages flipped through frantically. Papers slid across the table and onto the floor. This was it, this was their last chance.
Will’s hands trembled as they finally closed around the page they needed. His pulse roared in his ears as he read the incantation aloud, voice steady even though his heart was anything but. The words settled into the air, heavy and charged.
Mike leaned forward, eyes locked on Will as he narrated.
“The Mage appeared through a portal, her beam of light spreading out onto the battlefield.” Mike’s voice rose, intense and commanding. “Strahd lets out a piercing screech as his body shrivels, burns, and turns to ash.”
Dustin let out a scream and Lucas jumped to his feet, laughing wildly. Max whooped and threw her arms around both of them at once, nearly knocking the chair over. Will found himself pulled up by Max and slammed into a double high five that quickly turned into a full hug. They had done it, they had won. Max clapped once more and smirked, like she had known all along they would make it, even though moments earlier she had been hurling objects around the room in frustration over their near loss. Will smiled, wide and real, adrenaline still buzzing through his veins. He told himself it was from the game, from the victory. Not from the way Mike had looked at him while he spoke.
Then the quiet slowly crept back in.
As the noise faded, Will felt it. That old, familiar nervous energy that seemed to surround himself. He brought his hand up without thinking and pressed his knuckle against his mouth, chewing lightly at his finger while his thoughts spiraled. He risked a glance up at Mike. He should not have, he knew he should not have. To his surprise, Mike was already looking at him.
Their eyes caught and held. Mike’s expression shifted, something sharp and curious lighting behind his eyes. Slowly, deliberately, Mike raised an eyebrow.
The room seemed to hum around them, like the air had turned electric. Will’s breath caught in his throat. He kept chewing on his finger, aware of how exposed he suddenly felt.
Mike’s gaze flicked down, just for a second, to Will’s mouth, and then back up. Will’s pulse kicked hard, and before he could react Mike was already looking elsewhere.
“Wow,” Max said, breaking the moment like a blade, “I thought you were some kind of master storyteller or something.”
Mike blinked and leaned back, “Hey, that ending was earned.”
Dustin nodded fervently. “Absolutely.”
Mike smiled, a little sheepish now, and started talking, slipping easily into narration again. Max wanted to know about what happens to everyone after they win. He talked about where everyone’s characters ended up, about peace and rebuilding and futures that stretched forward.
Will tried to listen, he really did.
But all he could think about was the way Mike’s mouth moved when he talked, the way his hands gestured, the way his curls fell into his eyes now that he had stopped cutting them so short. He thought about the eyebrow raise, about the shared look, and about the buzz still thrumming through his chest.
“And Will the Wise,” Mike said, voice softer now.
Will looked up, startled from his thoughts.
“He moves to the bustling city of Vallaki,” Mike continued, eyes fixed on the page and voice steady. “There he finds deep happiness and acceptance. He finds people who see him for who he is.”
Will’s throat tightened.
“And he meets someone.”
Something in Mike’s tone shifted on that last part, it was careful and intent.The campaign ended properly after that. Binders were closed with a sense of satisfaction and stacked back on the shelf where they belonged. Mrs. Wheeler’s voice floated down from upstairs, calling them to dinner. Everyone groaned, but they went, one by one, feet thudding up the stairs. Dustin was still talking about his favorite roll. Lucas and Max quickly followed, Max excited to finally try Mrs. Wheeler's famous lasagna.
Mike and Will lingered as the rest made their way upstairs and closed the door. Will gathered pages as Mike pushed in chairs around the table, both doing unnecessary tasks to keep from acknowledging each other.
The basement felt different now. It was too quiet, too small, too close.
Will shifted his weight, finding the courage to break the silence “So,” he said, forcing casual into his voice, “you’re imagining me with some random boyfriend now?”
Mike froze, knuckles turning white as his hands remained clutched around the back of a chair.
Will turned toward him fully, heart hammering. “What’s he look like? So I can keep an eye out.”
Mike opened his mouth and closed it repeatedly, and then ran a hand through his hair.
“He is,” Mike said slowly. “Tall, attractive...” Mike swallowed and quickly finished, “curly dark hair.”
Will stared at him. Really stared, at the curls, at the height, and at the way Mike would not quite meet his eyes.
Everything started to click into place.
The looks during the game, the tension. The way Mike’s voice had softened whenever he spoke to Will. None of it had been imagined or one sided.
They were standing too close, Will hadn't even noticed when that happened.
Mike finally looked up, and their eyes locked.
“Oh,” Will breathed.
“Yeah,” Mike said.
Will forced a shaky laugh and took a step back, reaching for normal. “Mrs. Wheeler is going to get mad if she has to call us again. We should go.”
Mike grabbed his arm. Not hard at first, just enough to stop him, fingers curling around Will’s wrist like a question he was afraid to ask out loud.
“Wait,” Mike said.
Will turned back slowly, heart pounding so loudly he was sure Mike could hear it. They were standing close now, close enough that Will could feel the heat coming off him, close enough that neither of them could pretend this was accidental anymore.
For a second, neither of them moved.
Mike’s eyes dropped to Will’s mouth and Will swallowed. He could feel his own breath shaking, could feel the space between them thinning with every heartbeat. Mike lifted his hand, hesitating just inches from Will’s jaw, fingers trembling slightly like he was bracing for rejection.
The first kiss was soft. Almost reverent. Mike’s lips pressed to Will’s like he was afraid to break him, afraid this was something fragile that needed careful handling. Will’s eyes fluttered shut and Mike pulled back. Mike exhaled, shaky and relieved at what they just did.
Then Mike kissed him again.
Longer this time, and firmer. The hesitation melted away, replaced by something deeper, heavier, like all the things Mike had never said were finally finding a way out. Will felt it everywhere, the warmth of it, the certainty, the way his doubts quieted under the simple truth of Mike wanting him. Will’s knees weakened and he stumbled back until the railing pressed into his spine. Mike followed immediately, crowding him in, one hand braced against the railing beside Will’s head like he was anchoring himself there.
Will’s hands fisted in the front of Mike’s shirt, fingers trembling, grounding himself in the feel of cotton and warmth and realness. He had spent so long wanting this, so long convincing himself it was impossible, that his chest felt tight with the weight of it finally happening. Mike’s thumb brushed along Will’s jaw, slow and deliberate, and Will gasped quietly into the kiss. The sound seemed to break something open in Mike. Mike kissed him deeper, unhurried and consuming, like he had nowhere else to be and no intention of leaving.
Will’s fingers slid up into Mike’s hair, threading through the curls he had memorized from afar for years. He tugged gently, just enough to test the reality of this moment and feel the curl spring back into place. Mike made a sound low in his throat that sent a shiver through Will, heat pooling low in his stomach. The kiss grew heavier, breathier, their foreheads nearly touching as they caught uneven breaths against each other.
Will felt dizzy with this closeness. With the knowledge that this was real, that it was mutual, that everything he had been afraid to hope for was standing right in front of him with its hands around his waist. He was just about to pull Mike closer, to let himself fall fully into it, when the basement door flew open.
The two boys jumped apart and quickly created space. Mike grabbed the arms of a chair and Will studied something nonexistent on the wall, trying to create the illusion that he was casual and nothing just occurred.
Lucas, Max, and Dustin stared down at them from the top of the stairs.
Finally, Max grinned, “Hey lovebirds. Come on, dinner’s getting cold.”
Will waited for it, but no one said anything else. There were no questions asked, no indications besides Max’s typical teasing words.
Mike hurried up the stairs and Will followed close behind. He was focusing on Max’s words. Did they separate quick enough, or did their friends catch them? She is usually sarcastic and teasing, so was nothing meant by the term lovebirds, or did she pick on something real, something that actually existed between them?
Dinner was loud and normal, but also nothing like it had been before. Will and Mike kept catching each other’s eyes, smiling too much, kicking each other under the table like idiots. It was so similar to how they acted with each other while growing up, but something felt so different. Will’s fears melted away because whatever this was with Mike, he knew he liked it.
Mike leaned over at one point and whispered, “We forgot to put our own binders away.”
Will smiled back, eyes widening just slightly. “Guess we will have to go back down later.”
Mike’s hand slid onto Will’s leg under the table.
Will’s breath caught, but he did not move it away. The campaign was over, but something else had just begun.