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Mike, Lucas, and Will ran toward Dustin after his graduation speech, the echo of applause still ringing behind them. They collided into a group hug, proud smiles plastered on their faces, breathless and buzzing with adrenaline.
“Dustin! You’re a madman. You’re an absolute madman,” Mike exclaimed, his left arm shaking Dustin so hard he nearly lost his balance.
“Higgins totally shit his pants,” Lucas added, a bright, disbelieving grin stretched across his face. He still couldn’t believe his best friend had actually done that.
“What’s he gonna do, expel me?” Dustin replied, a smug grin tugging at his lips as he shoved Lucas away.
“You’re crazy,” Lucas said, laughing as he pushed Dustin back.
“Hey,” hollered Stacey from behind them. The crew froze. Their laughter died instantly as they turned to see Stacey walking toward them, sunlight catching in her hair.
Dustin instinctively pushed Lucas aside before answering, “Hey, Stacey.”
“I just wanted to say what you did up there was pretty badass,” Stacey said, a confident smile resting on her face.
“Oh. Thanks. I was kind of just going for a bit of a Belushi thing,”
Dustin replied, already feeling his brain betray him. “But, like, if he was in a Hughes film. I don’t know. Does that make sense?” he continued, rushing the words, trying to save whatever dignity he had left.
“Yeah. Totally--” Stacey started.
“That’s okay if you--” Dustin cut in, immediately regretting it, wishing the ground would just open up and swallow him whole.
“No, totally,” Stacey said quickly, clearly trying to smooth out whatever awkward mess the conversation had become.
“Yeah?” Dustin asked, hopeful.
“Mm-hm,” Stacey replied. Dustin nodded a little too fast, smiling, and Stacey mirrored him.
The moment stretched, quiet but warm. “Okay. Cool,” Stacey said, turning away.
“Why’d I say that?” Dustin muttered to the rest of the group, staring after her. “Dude…” Will said, shaking his head.
“Hey, so I’m having a party later tonight. You guys should come,” Stacey added over her shoulder as she walked off.
Will broke into laughter, a wide smile spreading across his face. “Oh, wait,” he said.
“Did that just happen?” Dustin stood there, stunned, heart racing, trying to replay the conversation in his head.
“Should we go?” he asked, almost afraid of the answer.
“Uh, is that rhetorical?” Lucas said, incredulous, like the idea of missing the last party of their high school years was actually insane.
“Wait, are you guys sure? I mean, we’ve never gone to a party,” Mike said, uncertainty creeping into his voice.
“Screw that. I’m going. The last time I went to a party was when I was on the basketball team,” Lucas replied without hesitation.
“Yeah, I want to experience at least one party before going to college in New York,” Will added.
“I’m not missing my chance with Stacey. After me and Suzie broke up, I haven’t even talked to girls,” Dustin said, determination settling in.
“Alright, fine. Meet at my house around 8 p.m. See you guys later,” Mike said as he headed toward his family.
“See you guys around,” Will said, peeling off to meet Jonathan.
Lucas and Dustin waved at Will as they went their separate ways, the excitement of the night ahead hanging thick in the air.
It was past 8 p.m., well 8:45 p.m. to be exact, and everyone was almost ready except Will.
“Where is he? My God, we’re going to be late,” Lucas said, pacing.
“Calm down, Lucas. It’s not like the world is going to end if we’re late,” Dustin replied casually.
“He’s pretty late. Should we go check on him?” Mike asked, glancing at the clock.
“Are you insane? His house is literally on the opposite side of Hawkins, and Stacey’s place is at the end of town,” Dustin said.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m going to call his house,” Mike replied as he walked toward the phone.
Before he could dial Will’s number, the phone rang. “Hello? Who is this?” Mike asked.
“Hey, it’s Will. Sorry, I’m already at the party. I ran into Arthur at the town and decided to come with him. Where are you guys?” Will said, his voice loud and muffled by the music in the background.
Irritation hit Mike all at once; his chest tightened, his heart wrenched, his breath hitched, and heat crawled up his neck. “Oh. Yeah. We’re on the way to the party. See you there,” Mike said. “Yeah. Oka—” Will started, but Mike had already slammed the phone down, hanging up as fast as lightning.
Who the fuck is Arthur? Since when did Will get a new friend? They just met and clicked right away? That’s bullshit.
Mike’s head filled with a million questions, and he didn’t even understand why he was feeling this way.
“Who was that?” Lucas asked, tossing M&M’s into his mouth.
“Will. Uh, we should go. He’s already there,” Mike replied, a sour taste lingering in his mouth.
“Let’s party, baby!” Dustin yelled excitedly.
The rest of the crew arrived past 9 p.m., and the party had long since started. Music was banging against their eardrums as the entire class of ’89 filled Stacey’s house, inside, outside, and upstairs. Stacey’s house was huge, a two-story place with five bedrooms; the hall was wide and open, a beautiful chandelier shining brightly above it. The kitchen was packed with every alcoholic drink you could think of, beer, mixers, vodka, whiskey, even non-alcoholic options scattered among them.
Out back, the massive swimming pool was surrounded by people, some lounging at the edge, some swimming, some dancing, some making out. It was safe to say this party was nothing like what the crew had expected.As Lucas, Dustin, and Mike stepped in through the front door, they were immediately swallowed by the crowd.
“Dustin! Hey!” Stacey called, weaving toward him a little unsteady, and Dustin caught her just before she fell.
“Oh! Hey, Stacey! Awesome party!” Dustin yelled over the music.
“Thanks--come on in! Let me get you to the kitchen. We ordered a ton of drinks,” Stacey replied.
The crew followed her, and when they reached the island, Lucas and Dustin each grabbed a beer, while Mike took a red cup and opened a bottle of vodka, filling it nearly to the top. He lifted the cup and drank straight from it, lowering it only when it was half empty.
Dustin and Lucas stared in horror--they had never seen Mike like this, not even after everything that had happened with El.
“Dude, that’s vodka. You’re drinking it like it’s water. Are you okay?” Lucas asked, exchanging a worried glance with Dustin.
“Yeah, we just started,” Dustin said, but before he could say more, Stacey had already grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the hall.
“Let’s dance, Dustin,” she said.
“Hell yeah!” Dustin shouted back.
“Dude,” Lucas muttered, now alone with Mike.
“Are you okay, big guy?” he asked as Mike tipped the cup again, swallowing more vodka.
Mike reached for the bottle, but Lucas stopped him. “Brother, you need to stop. I promise you, that’s a bad idea. Here--drink this instead,” Lucas said, handing him his beer.
“Fine, whatever. Who cares anyway?” Mike snapped before looking around the packed room. “Now where the fuck is Will?”
“I don’t know, man,” Lucas said as he scanned the room.
As he kept looking, his eyes caught on a blond guy carrying two drinks toward the stairs, laughing as he handed one to a boy with a bright, familiar smile plastered on his face--it was Will.
“Oh, there he is,” Lucas said, pointing him out.
Mike snapped his head in the direction of Lucas’s finger, and whatever irritation he’d been holding onto instantly twisted into something sharper, uglier, as he watched the filthy blond guy stand way too close, leaning in to whisper something directly into Will’s ear like he had every right to be there. Will laughed--too easily, too freely--and without hesitation, he reached out, grabbed the guy’s hand, and let himself be pulled upstairs.
The sight hit Mike straight in the chest. Heat crawled from his neck up into his face, his jaw tightening as his cheeks flushed, the alcohol finally flooding his system and loosening everything he’d been trying not to feel. He tipped the beer back and chugged the rest of it in one go, like he was trying to drown the image, then crushed the empty can in his fist and shoved it back at Lucas.
“What the fuck? I just took a sip and you finished the whole thing,” Lucas said.
Mike didn’t answer. He was already moving, staggering slightly as he headed for the stairs, eyes locked on the spot where Will had disappeared with that nasty blond guy, his chest burning with something he didn’t want to name.
As Mike walked upstairs, he was immediately swallowed by the crowd, bodies packed shoulder to shoulder, laughter and music bleeding through every open door. He pushed his way down the corridor, scanning faces, until he suddenly heard it--a laugh.
A familiar laugh. A laugh he knew too well, one that felt like it belonged to him alone, like he was the only one who was supposed to hear it.
He followed the sound and ended up in a large bedroom where a group of people sat in a loose circle on the floor, a beer bottle spinning lazily in the middle.
“Oh, Mike. You’re here,” Will said, looking up.
But Mike barely registered the words; all he could see was how Will’s leg was crossed over that fucker’s leg, how close they were sitting, shoulders nearly touching, knees pressed together like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“We’re about to start a new round. You wanna join us?” Will asked.
“Gladly,” Mike replied, his voice tight.
He stepped forward, intending to sit next to Will, but before he could, a girl grabbed his hand and pulled him down beside her.
“You can sit here--there’s an empty spot. My boyfriend went to the toilet,” she said with an innocent smile.
“Thanks,” Mike muttered, the word coming out strained as he shot another look at Will.
Apparently, they were playing Seven Minutes in Heaven, and this was the fifth round--the last one, judging by how bored everyone looked.
“Okay, Will. It’s your turn,” the girl beside Mike said.
“Oh, okay,” Will replied, his hand shaking slightly as he reached for the bottle, nervous--probably because of how intensely Mike had been staring at him and Arthur since he first entered the room.
Please, please, please, please--anyone but Mike Wheeler.
Will begged silently as he twisted the bottle, his heart pounding while he prayed it would land on literally anyone else in this ridiculous game.
Will had only agreed to play this stupid game because of Arthur. Arthur had told him earlier that he wanted to get into the closet with his crush and finally confess to him--oh yeah, him.
Arthur is gay, just like Will. They had met last summer at the arcade, though it hadn’t been an instant click. Will had been working there part-time the entire summer, and Arthur was a regular, always hanging around the basketball game.
At first, they barely talked at all, until one day, Arthur bounced the ball too hard and it smacked straight into Will’s face. Arthur apologized like crazy afterward, mortified, even offering to buy Will lunch for the rest of the summer, which Will politely declined.
After that, something shifted, and they slowly grew closer over the weeks, became best friend even in school, talking during breaks, sharing lunches, until by graduation day, Arthur felt like a constant presence. It helps Will a lot--having another best friend that is not Mike freaking Wheeler.
Arthur was the first to talk about his sexuality, back when they were seniors, and it had completely shocked Will--to finally find someone like him, someone who understood everything without explanation.
He loved his friends, and he loved Robin, but it was never quite the same. His friends had taken his coming out well--maybe too well--to the point where it scared him, where he felt like he had to walk on eggshells every time he was around them, careful not to say or do the wrong thing.
Every small talks, every touch, every hug, and he hates it. Hates how everything makes him aware that his friends might feel uncomfortable with him. Of course, it's no different with Mike. He had always been there, helping Will through it, and that only made things harder with how Will felt about him.
He wanted more, and more every day. Even though Will knew Mike was just his Tammy, the feelings weren’t something that could just disappear in one night, not after almost ten years of a quiet, one--sided crush.
So he told Arthur everything--every feeling, every layer, even every painting he had ever made of Mike. Well, at least half of it. The other half is already being kept in Mike's room, shutted tight in Mike's closet.
Arthur made him feel safe and secure, which was ironic, because that's place used to belong to one and only, Mike Wheeler. Only Mike.
Anyway, when Arthur had a chance to go to New York on a baseball scholarship, suddenly, Will realised that he has to tell The Party soon about Arthur especially when he and Arthur have made plan to be roommate there.
Of course, time was never on Will's side, and as days goes by, graduation day passed by--and he's now playing Seven Minutes in Heaven at Stacey Albright's party. And by judging the way Mike was staring holes straight through Arthur’s face, it was starting to feel like a terrible idea.
Great. His one true love hates his new best friend. Just wonderful.
Arthur leaned in close, taking the chance to whisper into Will’s ear, “If I survive the night, I’m going to confess to George downstairs--assuming Mike Wheeler doesn’t kill me with that stare any second now. Are you sure he doesn’t have a crush on you? He looks like he’s about to shoot a hole straight through my head.”
Will let out a quiet giggle and leaned in as well, whispering back into Arthur’s ear,
“Trust me. He’s straight as a ruler. He’s just being protective because he doesn’t know you yet.”
Arthur hummed and gasped as he saw the bottle spin, then smirked, “Well, at least I’m safe. You’re probably going to need to get your heart checked after this.”
Seeing this, Mike felt like he was being tortured. It was as if someone had shot him a hundred times, and he couldn’t understand how Will could be so comfortable and close with this guy, leaning in, whispering, and laughing--things Mike had never seen him do with anyone else except Mike of course.
As the bottle slow down, the bottle finally stop, pointing at the only person he doesn't want to stuck seven whole minutes with. As Will stared at the stopped bottle, he felt a jolt of panic.
Is the universe will never be on his side?
“You've gotta be kidding,” he whispered under his breath.
“Well, that’s our last couple, everyone. Remember, seven minutes in the closet,” the girl beside Mike said, though he had no idea what her name was.
“Good luck,” Arthur said, bursting into laughter.
“Fuck you, Arthur,” Will muttered, cheeks flushing.
Both he and Mike stood up, exchanging a tense glance before moving toward the closet, and just as they were about to step in, Will stopped, hesitated to get his voice out, but for his sake, he needs to say it.
“Y-You know, you could back off if you want. I mean, if you're feeling uncomfortable. Arthur can take over your place,” he said, glancing at Arthur and the girl holding the lock and key, pleading as hard as he could with his doe eyes.
“I-I mean, yeah sure, if Arthur’s okay with it--” the girl started, but Mike cut her off.
“No. It’s okay, I don’t mind,” he said, voice far too loud, making Will flinch.
Will's praying the ground could just break open and swallow him at this point. There's no way he's surviving this, one way or another.
Mike stepped into the closet and sat down to a small bench on his left side, and Will followed, lowering himself onto the bench opposite him.
“Have fun, lovebirds,” the girl called out with a grin as she clicked the lock into place, leaving the two of them alone in the cramped, tense space.
As the boys sat in the closet, the others slowly left the room. The space outside gradually emptied, leaving behind only Arthur and the girl, whose name he believed was Britney. She dragged Arthur out of the room, closing the door shut, and grinned as he looked at her, puzzled by her scheme.
“But… who’s going to open the closet later?” Arthur asked.
“Don’t worry,” she replied, her smile wide and teasing.
“Seven minutes is long enough. Besides, from the look of it, they could probably use even more time.”
Arthur laughed softly, shaking his head as he and Britney finally turned and walked toward the door, weaving through the few stragglers still lingering in the hall, their voices and footsteps fading as they left the room.
The door clicked behind them, and the dim, cramped space of the closet suddenly felt impossibly small and unbearably quiet. Outside, the muffled sound of music and distant laughter reminded them of the party, but in the closet, there was nothing but the tension and the faint smell of sweat and fabric.
Mike and Will were left alone, sitting opposite each other, the air between them thick, charged, and full of unspoken words.
And Will thinks, he's rather being stuck in the Upside Down than being inside this small closet with Mike Wheeler.
The closet was surprisingly small, far smaller than Will had expected considering how enormous Stacey’s house was, and the air inside quickly became thick and heavy, making it hard to breathe. It wasn’t as dark as he had imagined either; a narrow gap between the closet door let a sliver of light shine through, illuminating the cramped space in harsh, teasing lines. Will didn’t know where to look, so his eyes stayed fixed on Mike’s shoes, tracing the scuffed tips nervously, wishing he could disappear.
The tension was suffocating, pressing in from all sides, making him feel trapped, desperate to escape, and God--he never would have imagined that seven minutes could feel this fucking long.
Before he could even summon the courage to break the silence, Mike spoke, his voice low and dangerous.
“Who the fuck was that?” The words hit Will like a punch.
Mike had never cursed when speaking to him before--not like this. Only with Lucas or Dustin, and even then, it didn’t feel like this. Will’s chest tightened, but he forced himself to stand his ground.
“His name is Arthur. And he’s nice, so please… don’t speak like that about him,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. Mike curled his hands into fists, knuckles white, and his glare seemed to pierce through Will.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he snapped.
“You’re being mean, Mike. You jumped to conclusions before I even had the chance to explain. Arthur didn’t do anything, and you’re already mad at him. How am I supposed to introduce him to you guys if you’re going to act like this?” Will said with a heavy sigh, attempting to reason with him, even as his heart pounded and his breathing grew shallow.
Mike’s eyes narrowed, his voice growing louder, trembling on the edge of fury. “Introduce him? Introduce him as what? Your fucking boyfriend? Oh, now that you have a boyfriend, you forget about the rest of your friends? HUH? Forget about me?” What the fuck, Will?"
Will gasped, feeling the floor drop beneath him, he had never seen Mike this angry, not even during their previous fights, and suddenly, the stakes of this small closet felt enormous. “W-What? No, Arthur is NOT my boyfriend. It’s just that we share the same secret which I don't think I should say since it's also his, so we’re getting closer--”
Will tried to speak, but Mike cut him off, his voice sharp and furious.
“Secret? Don’t bullshit me. I know you’re together. I saw you on the stairs--him bringing your drink, acting like he had some kind of claim on you. Grabbing your hand like it was his to hold. And since the game started, you haven’t stopped--leaning in, touching, laughing like a damn couple.
“You really think I’m that stupid? Tell me, Will. Tell me how fast you ran to him the moment someone paid attention to you.”
SMACK!
A sharp smack of Will’s hand against Mike’s face made him flinch violently, the sudden sting shocking him, bring him back to reality, the burning sensation help him sobered up while the cramped walls of the closet seemed to close in even tighter.
Will immediately pulled his hand back to his chest, as his tears spilling freely down his cheeks, he caught his breath, trembling.
“You’re not my Mike,” he said, his voice trembling. “My Mike would never say that. You’re drunk--and you’re being an asshole. How dare you?” His breath hitched.
“How dare you say that when all Arthur has done is help me. Help me try to get over you.” His voice broke completely. “But I can’t. I love you too damn much, Mike. This heart belongs to you, and only you. Goddamnit”
The words dissolved into sobs, Will’s shoulders shaking as tears spilled down his face faster than he could wipe them away. The disbelief in his eyes--hit Mike like a blow to the chest, leaving him breathless, frozen in place. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He hadn’t expected Will to break like this, crying and confessing his love at the same time.
Fuck. He was a fucking asshole.
“Will--please,” Mike said, his voice barely holding together.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it. I swear I didn’t. I was wrong, okay? I was just--stupid. Jealous. Drunk. I--” He cut himself off, swallowing hard.
“Please, just look at me. Please.”
He reached out again, slower this time, like he was afraid Will might shatter under his touch.
Will jerked his arm back anyway, clutching it to his chest. The rejection made Mike’s breath hitch.
“Please,” he whispered, eyes glassy now. “I didn’t think before I spoke. I didn’t think at all. I just… I hate the idea of losing you.” His voice cracked completely. “I can’t--Will, I can’t live without you.”
The word slipped out of him, soft and broken, like a confession he didn’t deserve to say.
“Baby.”
It was pathetic. He knew it was. He didn’t care.
That was what finally made Will look back at him.
For a split second, time seemed to stretch, the tension in the cramped closet thick enough to choke them both. Almost instinctively, Mike’s right hand shot out, gripping both of Will’s wrists--firm, but gentle and pulled him closer.
Before either of them could think, he pressed his lips to Will’s in a desperate kiss, fueled by years of buried feelings. Will froze at first, chest heaving, hands twisting weakly against Mike’s grip. The kiss collided in his mind, a storm of conflicting emotions crashing through him. And yet… it felt so good. He let it happen.
Kissing Mike Wheeler had been his secret dream since he was fifteen, every glance, every word, every accidental touch stoking something he’d never dared admit. It was wrong--wrong to feel this way about his younger sister’s boyfriend--well, are they still in relationship? maybe ex-boyfriend for now--but he couldn’t stop himself. Mike’s lips were too perfect, shaped exactly to fit his own.
The faint light from the door gap caught the flush on both their faces, highlighting the tears on Will’s cheeks and the intensity burning in Mike’s eyes, while the muffled sounds of the party outside faded into nothing, leaving only the raw, suffocating closeness of the closet, the electricity in the air, and a moment neither of them could take back.
What started as a single peck quickly deepened, a kiss that pulled them closer without words, soft but heavy with everything they’d kept inside. Mike pressed gently against Will, lips moving with careful urgency, letting the years of unspoken feelings bleed through each touch.
When Will parted slightly, Mike leaned in further, their mouths meeting in a slow, deliberate rhythm, an exchange that was both tender and impossibly charged.
Every nerve hummed, every heartbeat echo. The intensity wasn’t loud or frantic--it was quiet, intimate, overwhelming in its softness. Even with the sharp burn of vodka and the faint sweetness of beer lingering on Mike’s tongue, he was consumed by the unmistakable, delicate taste of Skittles clinging to Will’s lips--a small, maddening detail that made him smirk against Will's lips.
In the cramped closet, the world shrank to the press of their bodies, the warmth of their skin, and the closeness of their lips. Will’s hands wriggled for a moment before settling instinctively against the back of Mike’s neck. Mike’s hands followed, soft and grounding, tracing the nape of Will’s neck, letting the quiet intensity of the moment speak louder than anything they could say.
Their breaths grew faster and shallower with every gentle, insistent press, chest against chest, lips and tongues locked in a slow, consuming rhythm that made it hard to breathe.
When Will finally pulled back slightly, trying to catch his breath, his legs betrayed him, knees giving out as he sank to the floor of the closet. His heart hammered, chest heaving, eyes locked on Mike with a raw intensity that seemed to burn through the cramped, suffocating space around them.
With Will still on his knees, Mike leaned closer, the dim light spilling through the gap in the closet door catching the smug curve of his smirk, his eyes glittering with something both dangerous and unrestrained. He reached out, cupping Will’s chin gently but firmly, tilting his head upward.
“I’m not done yet, baby,” he murmured, voice low and teasing.
Then, with an effortless motion, he lifted Will onto his lap, pressing him flush against his body, the warmth of their chests mingling as their closeness sent another shiver through them both. The kiss that followed was nothing like before, slow, devouring, and impossibly intimate, each press of lips tasting like fire and sin.
This time, Mike didn’t hold back. His hands slipped under Will’s shirt, cold fingers tracing the curve of his back, teasing higher with deliberate, possessive pressure.
A sharp moan escaped Will’s lips. “Mike…” he whispered, breathless.
“Ah… not yet,” Mike growled, voice low and hungry, like some animal had taken over.
He claimed Will’s mouth again, devouring him with a fierce urgency, lips and tongue pressing and sliding, tasting, claiming. Wet, desperate sounds filled the tiny closet, echoing against the walls as their bodies pressed impossibly close.
Mike’s hands traveled lower, cupping and squeezing Will’s ass through his pants, drawing another involuntary gasp. Their lips parted for a brief second, only to reconnect, saliva stretching thin between them as if tying them together. Will’s head dropped back over Mike’s shoulder, giving Mike access to the sensitive skin of his neck.
Mike inhaled deeply, savoring the intoxicating mix of Will’s scent, and trailed his tongue over the column of his neck, lips pressing, sucking, marking what's his.
Will’s chest was flush against Mike’s, hips grinding forward instinctively, every nerve in his body alive with fire. His hands threaded into Mike’s hair, pulling him closer as their bodies moved in sync, heat radiating in waves.
Every touch, every gasp, every shiver carried a possessive, desperate edge, a silent confession of wanting, needing, claiming.The closet was small, but the fire between them was limitless--messy, hungry, intimate, and all-consuming.
Every kiss, every press of bodies, every whispered growl made it impossible to think, impossible to pull away, leaving only the raw, suffocating heat of desire.
By the time they finally broke apart, breaths shaky and lips swollen, the closet felt smaller than ever, their bodies still pressed together, still aching from the intensity of the kiss--too raw to name, too overwhelming to forget. Mike pulled back first, foreheads resting together, their breaths coming in short, heavy gasps.
The heat and tension hung thick in the tiny space as they both tried to calm down.The silence stretched before Will’s voice cracked, soft and trembling.
“Shit… fuck… Mike Wheeler, you’re insane. Do you even know what you just did?” Will’s eyes went wide, mouth slightly open, completely frozen, voice trembling with disbelief.
Mike blinked, flustered, cheeks red, lips slightly parted. “I… I wasn’t drunk, okay? I mean… I definitely wasn’t drunk… but fuck, Will…” His voice cracked, almost whining, desperate.
“Seeing you there… laughing with Arthur… I just couldn’t help it. I needed… I needed you right then. I wanted you so badly,” he admitted, fidgeting like a kid caught doing something he shouldn’t.
Will blinked, disbelief mingling with relief. “So… you weren’t drunk?” he asked quietly.
Mike laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck, cheeks flushing, words tumbling out.
“Hell no… I’ve never been more awake in my life. And… I think I might have a thing with you crying, Will.”
“Fuck, what should I do? What if I keep… kissing you every time you cry? Seeing you like that… it made me forget everything else. I just… I wanted you, okay?”
Will blinked again, completely caught between shock, disbelief, and a rising heat he didn’t know how to handle. Mike’s words, awkward, needy, and utterly flustered, left him speechless--and more than a little aware of how dangerously close they still were.
Mike’s hands trembled slightly as they hovered near Will’s shoulders, unsure whether to pull him closer or just hold him in place.
“I… I don’t know what to do with you,” he muttered, voice low and shaky, cheeks burning.
“You’re… fuck, but I can’t help it, Will. You’re… just too much. Too beautiful. Too perfect.” Will’s lips quirked into a small, nervous smile, caught between laughter and disbelief.
“Mike… you’re ridiculous,” he said softly, letting the tension ease just a little. Mike pressed his forehead against Will’s again, eyes half-closed, desperate.
“Yeah, I know. I’m… pathetic. But I can’t help it. Seeing you like this… makes me want you even more. I… I just want to hold you. Kiss you. God, I’m such an idiot.”
A pause lingered, heavy in the tiny closet.
“I love you, Mike. I always have, and I always will. I don’t think I could ever stop loving you,” Will whispered, voice catching.
Mike cupped his face, eyes glimmering, replying softly but shaky, “Me too. I love you too, Will Byers. I’ve always loved you. Only you. I thought I loved Jane, but… she proved me wrong.” He gave a small, nervous laugh.
“What do you mean?” Will asked, hiccupping slightly through the shock and residual tears filled with guilt now they've stopped smashing their lips together.
Mike explained patiently, voice low and earnest. “Before Jane went away, she told about her plan, how she wanted to move away from Hawkins, and how we should end our relationship. Well, technically she dumped my ass." Mike giggled.
"She told me how she wanted to spend more time with Kali, and before she left… she brought me into The Void for the last time. She showed me my memories and every corner of it is filled with you, Will. Honestly, I think we underestimate how powerful she was" Mike chuckled again.
"She told me that the love I had for her… it wasn’t the right kind of love. Not for either of us.”
Will listened, stunned, still processing. “She showed me there was only one person I’d ever truly loved… and that’s you. She opened my eyes to the truth, told me to never be afraid anymore because our future would be beautiful.
“She even sent me letters...uhm...all this time.” Mike’s voice thickened with emotion, and Will’s shock softened into relief and awe--her little sister was well, and happy.
Mike leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to Will’s cheek, and Will couldn’t help but punch him lightly in the chest.
“Ouch! What was that for?” Mike asked, half-laughing, half-flustered.
“For not telling me Jane was away all these past eighteen months. Not cool, Mike. She's my sister, you dumbass.” Will replied, playful.
He then double-punching Mike's chest again. “Okay, now what’s that for?” Mike grunted, still flustered.
“For keeping her letters and her secret from me, you idiot. Seriously, how can you both didn't tell me anything?” he admitted sheepishly.
Then, shrugging, Mike wrapped Will closer in a hug that made him feel too happy, he could do this to his Will now.
"This hug isn’t going to make my anger disappear," Will muttered, letting Mike hold him anyway, though his jaw was still tight.
Oh yeah? How about this? " Mike said, grinning ear to ear, a little too eagerly.
When they finally broke apart, Mike brought his lips to Will’s left eye, soft and tender.
Will giggled, voice teasing. “What are you doing?”
“Kissing everything that belongs to me,” Mike murmured, leaning forward to press kisses across Will’s right eye, down the bridge of his nose, along his cheek, and ending with a lingering peck to his lips--sealing their confession, their love, and the promise that they’d never let go.
“I love you, William” Mike whispered, voice soft but steady.
“I love you, Michael” Will replied, a bright, genuine smile lighting up his face.
“Do you think… we could maybe go for another round?” Mike asked, voice soft and hopeful, eyes wide as he leaned closer. He fidgeted, fingers twisting together. “I mean--only if you want. I just… really want to kiss you again, Will.”
Will laughed, shaking his head, eyes bright with amusement. “Wow. So this is my life now? Dating a clingy, horny little puppy?”
Mike’s face went completely red. He froze for half a second, then let out a tiny, mortified sound. “…Maybe,” he muttered, before adding, quieter. Then, barely above a whisper, he made a pathetic little, breathy “Woof.”
Will stared at him for a second--then burst out laughing. “Oh my god. You did not just bark at me.” Mike groaned, burying his face against Will’s shoulder.
“I hate you,” he mumbled. “I just--please don’t make fun of me. I can’t help it. I like you too much.” Will laughed again, nudging his forehead against Mike’s.
“You’re ridiculous,” he said fondly. Mike smiled, soft and helpless, resting his chin on Will’s shoulder.
“Yeah,” he murmured. “But I know you love this.”
Will didn’t answer--just rolled his eyes and stayed exactly where he was.
Suddenly, the closet door swung wide open, and a flood of bright light poured in, forcing both of them to blink several times before their eyes adjusted.
Standing in the doorway was a tall figure, grinning from ear to ear as he took in the sight of Will still half-sitting on Mike’s lap, Mike’s arms very clearly locked around him.
“Oops… should I have waited one more minute?” Arthur teased.
Will let out a breathy laugh, immediately reaching one hand out toward Arthur. “Arthur--help,” he said, half-pleading, half-amused, as Mike instinctively tightened his hold.
“Nope,” Mike said immediately, chin lifting in stubborn defiance. “Absolutely not. You’re staying right here.”
Arthur raised the key, grin widening. “Well, I didn’t want either of you to suffocate in there, and also, it’s been like ten minutes. Thank God I managed to steal the key from Britney.
“Oh! And good news! I confessed to George, and we’re officially dating now,” he added excitedly, practically bouncing in place.
Mike cleared his throat, the sound awkward and a little too loud. “Uh--wait, so… you’re gay?” he asked, still trying to process everything. Arthur nodded, and Mike’s gaze immediately snapped to Will.
“See?” Will said quickly, cheeks flushing. “I told you, he’s just a friend. I only wanted to introduce him to everyone.” Mike groaned softly.
“Oh… God. I’m really sorry, Arthur. I totally jumped to the wrong conclusion and said some pretty nasty things earlier.”
Arthur laughed, clearly enjoying this. “It’s okay, I forgive you,” he said, then tilted his head, eyes flicking between them. “Though… for the record, I knew you were in love with Will.”
Mike froze. “What?” Arthur grinned.
“Come on. The jealous glare? The way you practically glued yourself to him? Very obvious. Honestly, I was just waiting for you two to stop being idiots and figure it out.”
Will’s face burned. “Arthur--”
Arthur laughed again. “Relax. It’s cute. Painfully obvious, but cute.”
Mike muttered, “I’m never living this down, am I?” “Nope,” Arthur said cheerfully.
Will grabbed Mike’s hand, squeezing it as he tried, and failed not to smile. “Come on,” he said quickly. “Let’s go downstairs. I’m thirsty.” Mike nodded, still mortified, but he laced their fingers together anyway, clinging close as they headed out of the closet.
Mike smiled, entwining their fingers, and the two of them walked side by side out of the closet.
Arthur hung back for a moment, smiling to himself, before following them down the corridor, watching as they descended the stairs together, side by side.