Work Text:
*Byler*
11 PM – Hawkins, 1988
Wheeler’s Basement – AU No Upside Down
The D&D night ends late. El and Max are already gone; Steve and Robin picked them up after their night out with Jonathan, Nancy, Eddie, and Vickie. Lucas and Dustin are already leaving on their bikes when Mike asks Will to stay over that night.
So Will tells Jonathan, who is saying goodnight to Nancy, that he’s staying at the Wheelers tonight.
They already ate pizza earlier, so they just have to put on their pyjamas and brush their teeth. They choose to sleep in the basement, more space, and less people. The Wheelers are already asleep by then.
The basement is quiet. Not too cold for a December 13th, but not as hot as the rest of the house.
Mike and Will are lying down on the amount of plaid they piled over the floor mattress.
It’s really quiet, the only sound coming from the clock on the wall.
They stay still, side by side, looking at the ceiling, the only source of light being a small lamp shaped like a Demogorgon.
Mike turns his head, looking at Will’s side profile. Will, sensing Mike’s gaze, turns his head too.
“What? Do I have something on my face?” Will chuckles.
Mike doesn’t respond. He just looks at Will with his puppy eyes, but there’s something different in them. Will doesn’t even have time to ask what’s wrong.
Mike already grabs him by the jaw and kisses him, softly at first. When Will responds, Mike deepens the kiss, desperate and clumsy, like he’s afraid to stop. Their breathing grows louder. Their movements are unsure. Soon enough, clothes end up on the floor.
The basement feels warmer now. The air is heavy. The windows fog slightly. Sometimes they kiss, sometimes they pause just to breathe, foreheads touching, hands searching for reassurance.
Will’s heart is racing. Everything feels too fast and not fast enough at the same time. Mike presses closer, as if the world outside the basement doesn’t exist anymore. As if nothing exists except this moment.
At some point, they slow down. Mike rests his head against Will’s chest, his breathing evening out. Will barely dares to move. He stares at the ceiling again, just like before—except now, everything is different.
They fall asleep like that, tangled together. Mike falls asleep first, his head on Will’s chest.
Will is scared to breathe. He’s scared that if he does, Mike will wake up and the moment will be over. Like it was never supposed to happen.
________________________________________
It’s morning.
Light breaks into the basement through the small window. Will wakes up first.
A bit later, Mike wakes too, and already starts pulling away. Not physically at first, but emotionally. No eye contact. No tenderness.
Mike acts… normal.
Not the normal Mike he is with Will, but the normal Mike he is with everyone else.
Mike gets up from the mattress without looking directly at Will. He grabs his pyjamas and gets dressed.
“We’re good, right?” Mike asks. “It didn’t really mean anything…”
For Will, everything has changed.
For Mike, nothing has.
Will doesn’t feel anger. Just panic. Panic about what their friendship will become after this night.
They get dressed and go upstairs to have breakfast with the rest of the Wheelers.
________________________________________
Will was right. Everything has changed.
They sit farther apart during D&D nights.
They don’t laugh as much as usual together.
Their hands don’t touch anymore.
The chemistry they used to have is gone.
Mike chooses El’s hand instead of Will’s shoulder when he needs support.
Technically, they’re still friends.
Just not the kind of friends they used to be.
That’s what hurts the most.
Every chance he gets, Mike insists that everything is normal. That nothing has changed. That nothing ever will. He isn’t cruel, he tries to be gentle.
But it still hurts Will.
Because to Mike, everything that happened in the Wheeler basement meant nothing.
Because their first time meant nothing.
Mike keeps laughing, talking about El, pretending December never happened.
Will realizes Mike needs it to be nothing. He understands that pushing will only make Mike pull away more. So, Will stays silent. He lets Mike put distance between them. And eventually, Will puts distance there too, for his own sake.
This is casual.
But Will knows it wasn’t.
This is where Will starts grieving their friendship while still being inside it.
________________________________________
Will watches Mike laugh with the others, in a way they haven’t laughed together in a long time. He realizes that he lost him. He lost Mike. He lost his best friend, without really losing him.
There is no argument. No confrontation. Just space. And something that looks like acceptance.
Will finally understands.
Mike didn’t leave.
Mike didn’t stop caring.
But the version of their friendship, the version of them that existed before December, is gone. Everything have change.
You don’t lose someone when they leave.
Sometimes you lose them when they stay.